


Desperation Volume 2: To Confront

by SunfireScribbles



Series: Desperation [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Best friends Harry and Draco, Court Drama, Family Feels, Fix-It, Gen, Lite Weasley Bashing, Politics, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Quantum Bang 2019, mentions of child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-05-14 21:13:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19281283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunfireScribbles/pseuds/SunfireScribbles
Summary: The Boy-Who-Lived, and now the Second-Time-Savior, Harry Potter is also the heir to three renowned Houses.  Thanks to the training and education he received after being taken in by the Malfoys at age seven, an eleven-year-old Harry is fully aware of his place in the Wizarding World, and has many plans for how to use his power and influence to shape that world.  He has already taken the first step, destroying Voldemort.  Now, it is time to face his other, and no less dangerous enemy.  Albus Dumbledore.  With Draco by his side, the Lord and Lady Malfoy behind him, and Harry’s desperation for justice fueling him, the old man doesn’t stand a chance.





	1. Ammunition

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to my beta, NCP, and to Tiffany for the awesome art http://quantumbang.org/artist-showcase-tiffany-for-desperation/

The soft pop of the house elf’s arrival woke him and by the time Harry Potter had gotten his glasses on, the creature had already popped out, leaving the morning’s newspaper behind as he had requested the night before. The young wizard immediately slipped on a robe and rushed into the adjoining sitting room, calling Draco’s name as he went. He wouldn’t have needed to go looking for the blond if not for the dose of Dreamless Sleep. The stress of the interview would have surely caused a nightmare, which Narcissa had seemed to know as she had offered the potion without even being asked. The taller boy was out of his bedroom in seconds, just as anxious to read the article as Harry was. Neither seemed to breathe as they took in the nearly two inch letters that made up the inflammatory headline.

 

HORROR AT HOGWARTS! BOY-WHO-LIVED DEFEATS DANGER AGAIN!

 

The article that followed was full of lurid accounts by various students describing the duel between Harry Potter and the possessed professor. Some of the supposedly first hand accounts were by people neither boy had ever heard of, let alone had DADA with. Even so, combined with what the reporter called Harry’s ‘raw, heroic account’ of events, it all made Harry Potter out to be a larger than life defender of wizardkind that made Draco smirk and Harry blush as they read it. The article also cast an extremely favorable light on the blond Slytherin’s defense of his fellow students and ‘stalwart presence at the side of his best friend, Harry Potter.’ The description of Severus Snape’s role was slightly more indecisive as it referenced the man as both ‘a critical aid to our hero in defeating the foe long thought dead’ and a ‘former Death Eater, turned spy’ in the war.

 

Harry was less concerned with the compliments it paid the ‘Second-Time-Savior’ and much more focused on the actions of the Headmaster. While the reporter called him ‘well known and respected’ she was not otherwise kind. In fact, she all but called the school’s current hiring practices shameful and the actions of its administration almost – though unfortunately not quite – dangerous to the students it housed. Included were mentions of the ‘strange and slightly worrying’ placement of the Philosopher’s Stone within the school, as well as its full grown Cerberus guard.

 

Harry was extremely relieved to see that the reporter hadn’t ignored his brief mention of the start of term warning about the third floor and the repeated detentions given during the year to students who explored the corridor. The woman had interpreted it as they had hoped, having pointed out in two places in the editorial the possibly ineffective measures taken to keep the students away from such dangers. In one of the references she even called the situation ‘shocking in its lack of concern for the safety of our children.’

 

The less than complimentary critique continued in a smaller article on the third page that included excerpts from at least nine different letters that the old man had sent to concerned parents who had owled him in response to their children’s correspondence after the DADA duel. Both boys were quite fond of the title, ‘Missives of a Dismissive Dumbledore.’ It was quite satisfying that the elderly wizard’s own words made it seem as if the Headmaster had not been overly concerned with the fact one of his professors had been possessed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and attacked a student. Those same words gave the impression that he had lied to parents in order to cover up the event.

 

“ _I can assure you, madam, that all is quite well here and that any classroom issues are being handled with all appropriate care”_ Draco read out-loud with a sneer.

 

“This one’s even better, Draco, look, “ _The staff here at Hogwarts is quite accustomed to the types of outbursts which can be common amongst the stressful end of year exams.”_ The two shared incredulous looks that turned more than a little outraged as they read another quote. “… _we believe that children should be allowed to verbalize their stress however they choose and such dramatics should not be punished.”_

 

“Did he really think he could just deny it ever happened, say it was just a silly story made up by naughty school children and everyone would just believe him because he’s Albus Dumbledore?” Harry’s tone was almost shrill as he stood abruptly and walked to the other end of the room.

 

Draco’s tone was far deeper, with a harsh undertone that showed his growing anger. “Probably.”

 

Harry paced restlessly for a minute before calming enough to rejoin his friend on the cream silk cushions of the settee. He took a deep breath to gather himself and picked the paper back up, turning it to the front once more. There was another article there, covering the bottom third of the front page and continuing onto the second. He didn’t want to read it, but he knew he needed to. As he did so, he did his best to pay more attention to how things were said than what was said. It had been bad enough having to say it the day before. Reading it, and knowing everyone else in the Wizarding world was likely reading it, was almost too much.

 

Draco allowed the smaller boy to read it through himself and waited for him to set the paper down before reaching for it. It was difficult to read, almost as difficult as it had been to listen to when Harry had spoken to the reporter. Knowing that his best friend had been ignored and hurt and mistreated by the Muggles had been one thing. Hearing it had been quite another. And he knew for a fact that what had been said hadn’t been close to all of it.

 

Much like his friend he paid closest attention to the journalist’s tone and the indirect and not-so-indirect suppositions she had made about who and what was to blame for the appalling life Harry had described. The blond was sure that the tale of neglect and near starvation, of constant verbal and physical abuse, had been the very last thing she had expected to hear when she had been assigned to interview the Boy-Who-Lived.

 

The brunette bit his lip, waiting anxiously for his friend to finish reading the last article. “Well, what do you think?”

 

Draco set aside the paper and stood. “I think you come across sounding rather reasonable about the whole Quirrell situation, and that everything else in the article is more than flattering. The letters from Dumbledore were a fantastic bonus.” The two young wizards exchanged smiles, though Harry’s was a little strained.

 

“And the last one could do quite a lot towards making the old fool look uncaring and inept if things go even half so well as we hope this week.” The taller boy briefly squeezed the other’s hand, his voice dropping slightly. “There might be comments, of course, and I doubt the first session or two of the Wizengamot will be focused on anything other than your situation. But some people who read it will hopefully be more focused on the actions that allowed it to happen rather than on you personally.”

 

The Potter heir took a deep breath, having already known that speaking so publically about his past meant he would have to suffer through a lot of whispers and pitying looks. Maybe being simultaneously lauded as a hero for the DADA duel would help mitigate it. It was possible. Another breath and a nod had both boys returning to their rooms to dress before heading down to join the adults for breakfast.

 

The Lady Malfoy’s voice drifted into the hall before they reached the dinning room door, the adults having obviously already read through the paper. “Well, it would seem this Sinclair woman is a more than passable writer. It is nice to see that the Prophet’s hiring standards have improved.”

 

“Indeed,” responded Lord Malfoy with a hint of amusement in his tone that was mirrored in the small smirk evident when the two boys entered the room. “It is certainly fortunate.”

 

Draco couldn’t hold back a smirk of his own at the reminder. A few months after Harry had moved into the Manor, the Malfoy Patriarch had begun to tailor his political actions and comments in preparation for his eventual alliance with the Houses of Potter, Peverell, and Longbottom. A reporter named Rita Skeeter had written an article about the shift. In it she had implied that the House of Malfoy was growing indecisive and speculated about what could have caused the change, including Lucius Malfoy being senile or being distracted by a Muggle mistress. It had been the last article she’d ever written. Shortly after the article was published, she had inexplicably lost her job and been blocked from any reputable employment in Britain.

 

The Lord’s smirk only widened when the young wizards joined them at the table. “Good morning gentlemen.” Grey eyes he had once found intimidating met the brunette’s green gaze.

 

“I believe congratulations are in order, Mr. Potter. You did an admirable job with your interview yesterday. You both came across very well indeed.” Lucius glanced over at this son with a smile, no doubt remembering the way the reporter had said several of their classmates credited the blond with protecting them from the duel. His attention returned to the smaller boy with a nod. “The quote regarding your Proxy selection was especially well worded.”

 

Harry blushed a little, having been too tired the afternoon before to discuss the interview after their return to the Manor. “Draco and Neville helped me prepare responses on the ride, sir. I just took their advice.”

 

Another look passed between father and son that had Narcissa and Draco both looking quite pleased as the elder wizard continued. “I believe today’s articles will set things in motion quite nicely. It bodes very well for our plans.”

 

Green eyes brightened. “Do you think the situation is secure enough to visit the bank?”

 

Before either adult could answer Harry’s hopeful question, Knobby popped in to announce the arrival of the acting Lady Longbottom and her grandson. Augusta took in the sight of the breakfast still in progress and gave a brisk nod. “Perfect. There is just enough time left for a good cuppa.”

 

As he watched Neville and his grandmother sit down and serve themselves, the brunette glanced around in slight confusion. Seeing the expression, Narcissa explained the morning’s schedule. “It is a risk, as you know, to leave the Manor before the legalities are fully settled. However, Augusta has managed to arrange a special Portkey to take us to and from the bank. There are few, if any, wards stronger than those around Gringotts. We will all be quite safe as long as we do not stray outside of the bank. Such entrance is not often granted, but the goblins have agreed to extend us this courtesy in order to access your vaults.”

 

Harry didn’t hold back the smile that information prompted. He had been rather impatiently waiting for it to be possible to visit the bank so he could finally open his parents’ Wills since he had first been told about them. In the years since, it had been far too dangerous to leave the safety of the Manor for fear of the Headmaster’s interference before the Malfoys had gained legal custody of him. Which of course, had been impossible to do without alerting the Chief Warlock that he was not where he had been left in the Muggle world. Harry would risk nearly anything before he’d risk being sent back there. So he had waited, and now it seemed the wait was over.

 

The two other boys had a hard time keeping their emerald-eyed friend occupied enough to allow everyone to finish their tea and scones. They were slightly successful as he found the adults’ conversation more interesting, if no more distracting than his friends’. His attention was caught briefly when the Longbottom Regent informed them that she had already received a half dozen owls on the subjects covered in the three articles. Most had been from reporters wanting a comment about either Neville’s having seen the duel or his relationship with the Potter and Malfoy heirs. One, however, had been from the Ministry department of Wizarding Children’s Services requesting an interview about her knowledge of her daughter-in-law’s efforts to obtain custody of Harry after the Potters’ deaths.

 

Everyone at the table found that quite interesting – and encouraging – news. Lucius was able to provide equally entertaining information as he finished his breakfast. “I heard from my contact at the Ministry this morning. He owled not two hours after the special early morning edition was sent out to say that Dumbledore had only just left. The old man tried to seize custody of young Mr. Potter for what he termed _safety reasons_.”

 

The child in question shuddered in his seat at the idea of being completely in the man’s control. The last time that had happened he had ended up in a basket on his Aunt’s porch in the middle of the night. No one missed his reaction, but they didn’t comment on it either, for which he was grateful as the elder wizard continued. “I can only assume that this morning’s paper was not well received by our illustrious Headmaster.”

 

Everyone smiled at that. “What did he do, dear, when his request was denied?”

 

They both knew that someone had tried to breach the wards that morning, it was the reason that Lucius was already awake when the owl arrived. He did not say that, however, simply answering his wife in a calm tone. It was nonetheless obvious that he was amused by what he was about to say. The others’ reaction were a bit more mixed when he informed them that Dumbledore had tried to file charges against the Malfoy Lord for supposedly kidnapping Harry Potter from his Muggle relatives.

 

“My contact assures me that everyone in the office was perfectly shocked and horrified that he thought Mr. Potter belonged with the Muggles and should be returned to their _care_.” The aristocrat’s lip curled in disgust before he went on. “The wizard in charge promptly explained that I had already been granted emergency custody and that there was, in fact, no legal guardian on file to which Mr. Potter could be returned.”

 

The wizard’s sneer turned to a satisfied expression so sharp Neville actually worried Lord Malfoy’s lips would start to bleed. “The Chief Warlock tried to tell him that the Dursleys had been removed from the file for Mr. Potter’s protection in case anyone intending him harm went looking for the information. The excuse was not well received. My contact also told me that after the Headmaster’s departure, his superiors had a closed door meeting about the ‘rightful chain of custody,’ which I can assume is when you were contacted, Lady Longbottom.”

 

After that, the conversation failed to hold the eleven-year-old’s attention. Not a quarter hour after the Longbottoms had arrived, Harry’s patience ran out and he asked as politely as possible if they could leave yet. With an arched brow and a look at her watch, Augusta said that they were only minutes away from the time set to activate the Portkey. Far slower than the brunette would have liked, they all gathered in the entrance hall, cloaks on. Everyone except Augusta had their hoods drawn up to minimize the likelihood of their being recognized.

 

Minutes later, once his stomach had settled back down into its proper position, Harry realized that they needn’t have bothered. The group was promptly taken from Gringotts’ private receiving room to another private office deeper in the bank. The two guards that accompanied them were the first goblins that Harry had ever seen and he finally understood why the Malfoys had been so adamant that he learn goblin etiquette the year before. The sight of the Potter/Peverell account manager, Brynjar, only reinforced that, especially when Draco whispered to him that the name meant ‘warrior in armor.’ Despite the crisp business suit, it was a very fitting name, in the brunette’s opinion.

 

For a nerve-wracking few minutes, the Potter heir stumbled through what he could remember from the lessons as an appropriate greeting and a brief discussion of what he wanted to accomplish during his visit. Eventually another goblin brought in several ledgers of files and handed them to Brynjar. One of those files included his parents’ Wills, their last wishes for him.

 

He took a deep breath and nodded at his account manager to begin the reading. Two scrolls of parchment where placed in front of him and Draco helpfully whispered a reminder of what he was suppose to do. Another steadying breath and a simple spell cut the tip of his index finger, allowing three drops to fall on each seal. The wax holding the scrolls together seemed to evaporate and the two lengths of parchment rolled open. The hour that followed was one of the most informative, and angering, that Harry had experienced since his first lesson with Lord Malfoy.

 

The account manager was in another part of the bank getting some file or other for them to review when the words had finished tumbling through his head and coalesced into an understandable pattern.

 

“We were right about the Proxies they assigned,” Harry said in a flat, emotionless tone. Draco rose from his seat beside his friend and took a step closer, reaching out to put a hand on his arm, but the brunette continued woodenly. “Though being the Black heir is a bit of a surprise. I’m sure we can use that.”

 

His being listed as the heir to the Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black had come as a surprise to everyone in the room, including the goblin, who had left the office under the pretense of collecting the Black and Gryffindor documents to go over as well as the Potter and Peverell files. The being most likely was more intent on avoiding the storm visibly brewing in the powerful young wizard. The concerns of wizards were only of interest to the goblins when it directly impacted the bank, the goblin nation, or the finances of either. And while it could be argued that the heir to four great Houses could impact all three, the account manager obviously felt that could be addressed after Harry had been calmed down.

 

He sounded perfectly calm, of course, so calm it was almost painful to listen to, but everyone in the room knew with only a glance at the shimmer of magic pulsing in time with the brunette’s shortening breaths, that he was anything but calm. The eldest Malfoy chose to ignore that for the moment and go along with his temporary ward’s current need to address everything except the reasons for his rage. “You are correct, we can certainly use it. I must agree, however, that it is quite a surprise to see that Sirius knew enough of the old rituals to have made you his heir. It is a tricky matter to assign a non-blood relative as such and he left his family before that level of magic would have been taught.”

 

“I agree,” added the last member of the Black family not dead or imprisoned. “Perhaps he took some older texts with him when he left Aunt Walburga’s. I doubt he found that type of book at the Potters’.”

 

“No, as well regarded as the House has always been, even by the traditional families, the Potters never did truly follow the old ways,” admitted Augusta.

 

The eldest blond made a sound that would have been a snort if it hadn’t been somehow sophisticated. “No, they hardly ever so much as sat in their Wizengamot Seat.”

 

“The Potters preferred social deeds to legal ones,” the Lady Longbottom pointed out. “And they were no fans of the established order within the Ministry,” she went on, a pointedly raised brow aimed at the wizard.

 

The Potter seat would be occupied soon, as would the Peverell, and the Gryffindor, and the Black, the heir to all four Houses corrected silently. His families’ power would be felt in full on the first court session after he turned twelve. He would be able to name his Proxies before the Wizengamot then, and the other Houses would be very clear on where he stood. The thought of how much he looked forward to that day calmed him a little, making him at least appear reasonable when Brynjar returned with the additional files and began to explain the state of his many accounts. They started with those from the House of Gryffindor, then Black, then Peverell. Last were those belonging to the Potter family. The task took almost an hour and was boring enough to further dull the edge of Harry’s anger. Until they reached the secondary Potter accounts.

 

The first clue that the wizards and witches had as to the content of the next folder was the eager expression on the goblin’s face as he picked it up. “Vault 496 is a subsidiary account of the House of Potter and was opened by Lord Potter in 1979, not long before he and his Lady went into hiding. The funds were to be available for certain prescribed uses related to the war effort, including but not limited to a bi-yearly donation to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and an annual stipend for St. Mungo’s Hospital. All withdrawals were ceased upon the Lord Potter’s death as is usual with any financial transaction that was not indicated by the Lord as ‘in perpetuity.’”

 

The file was laid open on the desk for Harry to see. Lucius, after a nod from Harry, leaned forward to peruse it as well. It was a list of several dozen withdrawals of varying amounts, starting on 2 November, 1981. “However, in November of 1981, when a previously scheduled withdrawal did not continue, we were given a statement, signed by Lord and Lady Potter, and accompanied by the key to Vault 496. The statement instructed Gringotts that all monetary transfers to the Red Wing Foundation were to continue indefinitely.”

 

“What is the Red Wing Foundation?” asked the blond wizard, causing a wicked expression to fill the account manager’s face.

 

“We at Gringotts can not share private information concerning our clients with anyone not expressly authorized. Except directly to said client or their direct heir and only if questioned by said client or heir,” was the goblin’s careful response as he slowly turned his gaze from the elder Malfoy to the smallest wizard in the room.

 

Green eyes blinked several times before the young wizard understood what wasn’t being said. “What can you tell me about the Red Wing Foundation, Brynjar?”

 

“I’m glad you asked, Mr. Potter. The Foundation was started on Feburary 19th of 1970 by your grandfather, Lord Fleamont Potter, and Albus Dumbledore. The formation of the Foundation was sealed the same day on Lord Potter’s request.”

 

“Were the transfers made?” Harry asked, the brunette having to work hard to keep from gritting his teeth.

 

“Two Magical Signatures were attached to the document with the instructions for transfer. They passed an initial identity scan. We attempted to send a message to the designated guardian of Heir Potter to confirm the instructions but were unable to find any such wizard or witch on file. Without access to living or preserved Magical Signatures, we were unable to prove the ones on the statement to be false.”

 

“And the only preserved Magical Signature of enough clarity to use for full verification is that which has been recorded on a sealed legal document such as a Ministry contract or Last Will and Testament, the former of which the Potters did not have, and the latter of which was unopened,” concluded the Malfoy Lord.

 

“Precisely. Normally, a Will is read automatically upon the issuance of a death certificate by the Ministry, but in this case, a legal injunction had been filed the day before those certificates were signed, which prevented the reading of the Potters’ Wills. Under these conditions we were unable to prevent the transfers. We did, of course, maintain careful record of all such transactions, as you can see. We also kept the original letter under stasis in case the opportunity came to compare it to the requisite signatures.”

 

All eyes went from the ledger to the recently opened Wills. All of the effort he had gone to in order to suppress the feelings of anger and betrayal began to crumble as James and Lily Potter’s only son instructed the signatures to be compared immediately. Brynjar was more than happy to comply as the deceptively gentle tones of the Lady Malfoy inquired as to the identity of the person who presented the alleged statement.

 

“Headmaster Dumbledore, the other originator of the Foundation, of course,” the account manager answered.

 

“And under whose authority was the injunction filed?” asked Lady Longbottom.

 

“Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore,” replied the goblin with a sharp grin.

 

“I do believe Mr. Potter would be most interested in acquiring a copy of all the records concerning the Potter Wills, the injunction against them, the activity of Vault 496, and this Red Wing Foundation,” Lucius Malfoy stated with a smirk as the comparison spell began to flash a dark red. Agreement was given without hesitation, a second goblin being summoned and sent to organize the records in question.

 

Harry did his best to pay attention, but the byplay between the blond Lord and the goblin barely registered through the fury he had only managed to outwardly contain. Dumbledore was stealing from him and had forged his parents’ Magical Signatures to do so. The thought was infuriating. But it was soon drowned out by another as his gaze followed the red light to the two open Wills. Which made him think about everything that had been in them and what it would have meant for them to have been read when his parents first died.

 

He had known, of course, that he shouldn’t have been left with the Dursleys. Even if his mother had listed her sister as a possible guardian for him, even a halfhearted check would have shown that he shouldn’t remain. His bedroom was a cupboard for Merlin’s sake. Without even taking into account the way he was treated in public and the disdain his relatives barely even tried to hide in front of teachers and neighbors, any type of home inspection whatsoever would have clearly shown that Number Four was not an acceptable place for him to be.

 

Yet Petunia Dursley was his aunt, she was his mother’s only sister, so it was possible that the initial placement was not strictly illegal. Discounting the fact that he had been withheld from his godmother, of course, as she was his legal guardian in the Wizarding world. But there was a slim chance that Lily Potter had in some way mentioned her sister as an option to care for Harry. And she had mentioned her. She’d stated, unequivocally, that her son was to not be left in the care of Petunia or Vernon Dursley under any circumstances.

 

There were, in fact, half a dozen people listed as possible guardians for Harry Potter. Sirius Black and Alice Longbottom, as his godparents, were listed first, of course. Then there had been Remus Lupin, Mary McDonald, Augusta Longbottom, Minerva McGonagall, and even Severus Snape had been listed. There had been absolutely no reason for him to have been left in the Muggle world with relatives that hated him and had no chance of defending him from the Death Eaters that had probably wanted him dead in the wake of Voldemort’s disappearance. All it would have taken was for one of them to track him down and wait for him to walk to school. Or do the grocery shopping as he often did. Or, perhaps, be beaten unconscious by his loving Uncle for being a _no good freak_ as had happened at least twice by Harry’s recollection.

 

The brunette’s thoughts spun and spun in his head. There had been so many options. So many things that would have, _should_ have happened. If his parents’ Wills had been read, if anyone had thought to question his disappearance or listen to the Longbottoms when they repeatedly brought up that fact, if anyone had just checked on him once, he never would have…. Harry cut off that train of thought abruptly and tightened his grip on the arms of his chair, pointedly ignoring the thought that the old man might have checked in on him at some point and just not seen a problem, or not cared that there was one. His breath began to come a little faster. Then another hand, paler than his own, covered his fingers in a solid but gentle grip, forcing green eyes to snap up and meet familiar grey.

 

Draco gave him a concerned look and the smaller boy did his best to return it with a reassuring one of his own. The worried narrowing of his best friend’s gaze told him he had failed; badly. But the blond’s action was enough to pull him from the enraging thoughts and return at least part of his attention to the others in the room, just in time for the goblin to finish talking to the adults and turn back to his client.

 

“Is there anything else you require of me today, young wizard?”

 

Harry glanced briefly around the room and seeing nothing to indicate another problem had come up while he had been distracted, he shook his head. “No, thank you, sir. You have been most helpful. I look forward to our next meeting, may it prove profitable for us both.”

 

Brynjar stood with a nod. “May we make much gold together, Mr. Potter.”

 

Everyone else stood as well and Harry silently thanked the Malfoys for his lessons once again as he supplied the appropriate closing to their farewells. “And may it be at the expense of our enemies.”

 

The smaller being grinned, flashing rows of sharp teeth, then led them all back to where they had arrived so that they could Portkey back to the Manor. The trip back was as disconcerting as the trip there and the three lordlings each took a moment to regain their balance when they arrived. Once everyone had enjoyed another cup of tea and a short exchange of gossip, the Longbottoms took their leave and Lucius was smirking as widely as Harry had ever seen him.

 

“Well, I believe that was a most productive outing.” As if noticing that his son’s best friend was not feeling as accomplished as he was, Lucius pinned the young wizard with a level stare. “We now have solid documentation to prove that Albus Dumbledore forged papers in order to steal from your vaults, issued a legal injunction to prevent the reading of your parents’ Wills outside the prevue of the Chief Warlock, and that he acted against your parents’ explicit wishes. We have proof that he circumvented several laws in order to retain personal control over you and your placement. This makes him, Mr. Potter, solely liable for any harm that came to you while in that placement. And we will make him pay for it.”

 

Harry nodded in understanding, taking a deep breath to keep the underlying anger from bubbling back up. “When can we present the case against him?” the brunette asked, though he already knew the answer.

 

“The next session of the Wizengamot opens at nine o’clock on the morning of the Summer Solstice. It is not so very long to wait, Mr. Potter.”


	2. Censure and Suspension

It may not have been very long, but the three days it took felt like they would never end. And then, it was June twenty-first and time seemed to cease entirely. Narcissa, had given up on distracting the young wizard by lunch time and the Malfoy elves even ceased trying to get the brunette to eat by the time tea was served that afternoon. All Harry was able to do was pace and worry. It was far too dangerous for the famous boy to attend in person, even as an observer, until the court itself had officially, and publically, reinforced the Malfoys’ emergency custody.

 

Knowing that his fate was being decided left a cold, hollow feeling in his gut that even his best friend couldn’t lessen. The blond continued to try, however, as Harry’s anxiety levels rose throughout the day.

 

“Lord Malfoy isn’t going to bring it up?” Neville asked quietly in slight confusion, having been summoned an hour earlier when the young blond had finally started to reach his wit’s end.

 

“No,” Draco whispered back as worried grey eyes followed their friend’s restless movements. “There is almost no chance that Dumbledore would allow anyone to address the court before his stooge tries to levee his intended charges. Besides, my father believes it would be best if he acted as though the matter were settled as far as he were concerned. He isn’t supposed to know that Dumbledore tried to file charges against him, after all. He has legal custody, even if only temporarily, so he is going to plan on introducing the Act and allow Dumbledore’s lackies to make the first move since they would most likely manage to do so regardless. If they are so intent on it, let his man be the one to make an accusation, he’ll look just as unreasonable as he did after the first article went out.”

 

Three hours later, once Augusta and Lucius had returned from the Wizengamot and the Longbottoms had gone home, Draco was given the opportunity to see first hand if his prediction was correct. Well, almost first hand.

 

The memory swirled to life around them and Harry watched, his best friend at his side, as Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, opened the court for the Summer Season. The old wizard tapped his wand on the podium before him, causing a series of bangs to reverberate around the large chamber as he called the court to order. Only a member of an Ancient and Noble, or Most Ancient and Noble House, was allowed to make introductions to the assembly. Dumbledore, as a member of the Administrative tier, could not do it himself, and Lucius’ voting bloc traditionally consisted of all but three of the current members of the requisite tiers: Longbottom, Ollivander, and Rosier.

 

When there had still been a Lestrange on the court, the Malfoy Bloc occasionally swayed his vote as well, but as with Rosier, the House’s arrogance did not allow for a longtime leader. Augusta had been a strong supporter of the Headmaster in the past and had needed to employ some creative dancing when interacting with the Chief Warlock since she had learned of Harry’s circumstances in order to prevent him from thinking otherwise. No doubt, the old man had assumed he would have full control of the Potter and Peverell seats when a sheltered and beaten down boy entered the Wizarding world and gladly fell under the great Albus Dumbledore’s care at Hogwarts. It would be a rude awakening for the manipulative goat when he realized how out of reach control of the court would soon be for him. Harry and Draco both watched the old man closely as Octavian Ollivander requested to speak on an ‘urgent and troubling matter’.

 

“Of course, Lord Ollivander, I am sure our other business can wait, what did you wish to say to the body?”

 

The two boys exchanged looks, wondering if Dumbledore really thought he was being subtle or if his cache truly caused everyone to humor him to such a degree. Whatever the case, the expression of shock and concern that covered the aged face was mostly convincing as the Ancient and Noble House of Ollivander Accused the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy of kidnapping the Boy-Who-Lived. Draco wondered, as agitated whispers began echoing in the larger chamber, how Lord Octavian managed to make so many capitalizations audible in his pompous speech.

 

The thought was discarded as the composed visage of his father began refuting the charges in a calm but offended tone. Dumbledore’s wasn’t the only face that was amusing to watch as the various pieces of evidence were produced one after the other. First, the parchment detailing Lord Malfoy’s emergency custody, then the letter Draco had written at the end of the year detailing events in DADA, then Harry’s request to go home with the Malfoys for the summer, and finally the signed statements from Harry about his time with the Dursleys, all which had made the temporary custody possible.

 

Even with the publication of Harry’s interview regarding his past, there was still a titter of dismay and disbelief at the presentation of the statements. It had been months since the initial tide of outrage regarding the rumors of Harry Potter’s complete lack of knowledge regarding the Wizarding World and his own family had died out at the beginning of the school year. The swell of disgust and pity which had so recently inundated the Wizarding public after the interview had hardly ebbed, however, and the Lord’s words only served to whet the appetite of his fellow Nobles, making their morbid curiosity all the stronger.

 

“As you can see, my custody of Mr. Potter is completely legal. I have in no way broken any laws, be they legal or moral, and have in fact acted in the child’s best interest. I cannot say the same, however, for the person responsible for placing our Savior in such deplorable conditions to start with. I, Lord Malfoy of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, do hereby officially Protest the actions which preceded and those which followed the placement of Harry James Potter, heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter and the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, with the Muggles Vernon Dursley and Petunia Dursley, nee Evans.”

 

A wave of silence seemed to overtake the Wizengamot chamber for several seconds before dozens of conversations started at once. While the wizard in question stood, slack jawed, his lackies in the various tiers either protested loudly or looked to their leader for cues on how to proceed. When Lucius spoke again, he had to cast a Sonorus to be heard.

 

“Furthermore, I allege that Harry Potter was placed in the care of the Dursleys illegally and as the result of custodial interference as, in being left with the Muggles, Potter was kept from the rightful guardianship of his Magical Godmother, Alice Longbottom.”

 

“I- I protest this allegation on the grounds that at the time he was given into his Muggle relatives’ care, continued attacks by Death Eaters made placement of the Boy-Who-Lived with anyone in the Wizarding World too dangerous,” Lord Ollivander finally managed to say with a nervous glance to the Chief Warlock. “Not only did his placement elsewhere protect him from the attack on the Longbottoms that occurred shortly after the Potters’ deaths, but I postulate that the placement was made in good faith and under the assumption that Lily Potter would have wished for her only child to go to his only family, her sister, Petunia Dursley.”

 

“Since the Headmaster received this premonition that the attack on Lord and Lady Longbottom would take place, I am surprised the family was not offered some form of protection. Or that the Longbottom heir was not moved from such a dangerous place, since apparently legal custody means less than the opinion of Mr. Dumbledore. Regardless of the perceived danger, the placement of a minor is not the sole decision of any one wizard and certainly not that of someone not granted any form of guardianship by our laws. Where their only child was to go after their deaths was the Potters’ decision, but obviously Mr. Dumbledore did not care about that since he filed an injunction against the opening of their Wills on the same day they were found murdered, another act that was outside the prevue of the Chief Warlock.”

 

A voice rose above the increased mutterings of the other Nobles to ask in disbelief if the Chief Warlock did indeed block the reading of Noble Wills.

 

The old wizard himself finally spoke up, looking greatly saddened, his grandfatherly mien as strong as it had ever been as he asserted that it had unfortunately been far too dangerous to read the Potters’ Wills right after their deaths as it would have been automatically recorded in the Noble register, allowing anyone who wished the boy harm to learn of his guardianship and therefore his location.

 

“Yes,” responded the blond aristocrat with a strangely elegant sneer, “I can see how worried you were, how eager to prevent harm to the boy, seeing as you went so far out of your way, and so far around the law, to make sure you were the only one to know where young Potter was. And it is clear that you were then so conscientious in checking on the child so many times to make sure he was doing well.” The sarcasm was heavy enough to reach every corner of the courtroom, causing a marked drop in other voices as they all listened even more closely.

 

“Since you would have done so, I am surprised that you missed the overwhelming evidence of repeated physical abuse, criminal neglect, and physiological torture inflicted on Mr. Potter by the illegal guardians you assigned him.” A shocked gasp echoed around the room as Lucius continued, drawing out a thick folder and magically providing copies to all the Lords and Ladies around him. “In case you did not, in fact, check on the child, I have ample evidence of his treatment here for you.”

 

Files flew open on every desk and were exclaimed over with vigor. Reading about an abusive home life and seeing evidence of exactly how bad that abuse had been were quite different things for the majority of the Nobles. Harry narrowed his eyes at the memory of Albus Dumbledore, the only one who did not appear shocked or disgusted at the contents of his file, but rather furious as he demanded to know how Lucius came to have readouts from diagnostic spells and magical photographs of injuries on a seven-year-old Harry Potter.

 

At the question, most everyone turned their attention from the horrible file to the wizard who had supplied it. The Lord Malfoy scanned the faces of his peers as he spoke. “In a desperate attempt to escape his abusive home, Harry Potter accidentally Apparated onto the Malfoy grounds in May of 1987. He was found by my son, and brought to our Manor where he was treated by wife, Lady Malfoy, who was trained in healing at the Mungo Institute. Mr. Potter had been beaten and starved and was so afraid of doing magic that even the word caused the child to have near hysterical panic attacks for weeks after he came to us.”

 

The eleven-year-old Harry shifted self consciously, prompting his best friend to take a firm hold on his hand as they watched the various members of the Wizengamot react. Several of Dumbledore’s supporters yelled, stating that the Boy-Who-Lived should have been brought to St. Mungo’s immediately, but their words were easily drowned out by their peers’ outrage at the Savior’s treatment.

 

A closer look by the young wizards showed that some of the Lords of the older families appeared equally, if not more upset, by the implications of the view of magic that the famous wizard had been raised with in the Muggle world. Still others, mostly members of the Malfoy Bloc, looked rather contemplative, no doubt at the idea of a seven-year-old Apparating through heavy defensive wards. Harry could see the calculation in their gaze and resolved to keep a watch on those families as he listened to Dumbledore claim that he had no way of knowing that such terrible things might happen, and that he would have taken the ‘appropriate steps to keep the boy safe in his home’ if he had any such indication.

 

“No, you would not have known before you left Mr. Potter there, as you blocked the reading of the Will in which Lily Potter stated clearly that her son was to never, under any circumstances, be left in the care of her sister. Lady Potter also stated that the Dursleys were known to hate magic and anyone who practiced it and she feared how her child would be treated by such a couple. Furthermore, if the Potters’ Will had been read as the law requires, you would have known that the Potters listed seven other people whom they wished to take guardianship of their son and heir. So it is understandable that without the Will and the last wishes of the Lord and Lady Potter, you instead circumvented the law in order to leave a toddler on a Muggle doorstep in the middle of the night, in October, with only a note and a single blanket, to be cared for by the very last people who should ever have done so.”

 

Pandemonium ruled for several minutes during which various Nobles shouted about one aspect or another of the startling revelations. Harry’s attention remained fixed on the Headmaster as he appeared to struggle with simultaneously directing his supporters, defending himself from everyone else, and acting as the Chief Warlock to quiet everyone down. When order was finally restored, the elderly wizard conveniently looked every inch of his advanced years as he informed the court that mistakes are sometimes made in times of war. He didn’t get any further as Lucius cut in.

 

“Yes, Chief Warlock, mistakes were most certainly made. Mistakes that you went out of your way to make, outside of the law and without any concern for the helpless child that would be effected.”

 

The twinkle behind the half-moon glasses was a shadow of its usual self while Dumbledore, obviously flustered, declared that he had a great deal of concern, only for the blond Lord to talk over him once again.

 

“You had so much concern that you never once thought to check on the boy or his home life or so much as inspect the cupboard under the stairs he had been given as a bedroom.” Over half the Sitting members of the Wizengamot stood and expressed their outrage, forcing the Lord of House Malfoy to cast another Sonorus to be heard. “Perhaps you were too busy arranging the quarterly transfers from the Potter vault to your own Red Wing Foundation. I can understand how that would have taken up much of your time seeing as the statement from the Potters which allowed it, was quite skillfully forged. The goblins were unable to prove it to be a forgery until the Wills you had sealed were finally opened by their heir three days ago.”

 

This time, nothing could bring the members to order and the Chief Warlock simply sat, appearing to shift between being overwhelmed, and being enraged. When the volume eventually began to lessen, Lucius called for a vote before the old man could attempt another denial or excuse.

 

“I believe we can all agree that many crimes have been committed against the only heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. As there were never any guardianship papers filed and Albus Dumbledore was, by his own account, the person to have possession of the child and in fact the one to place him in such deplorable conditions, I move that the person to be held accountable for the abuse that followed must be Dumbledore himself.”

 

A lengthy debate followed, establishing a clear division within the Wizengamot. There were those who supported the infallible Dumbledore and refused to believe the old man in any way intended or purposelessly allowed any harm to come to their Savior. And there were those who felt the Chief Warlock should be held criminally liable for all the varied crimes against the Potter heir, his estate, and the laws of Magical Britain. The two boys watching the memory couldn’t help but take note of who fell into which category.

 

Neither expected any type of criminal charges, they knew that filing such would require seventy-five percent of the entire court to vote against the beloved defeater of Grindelwald and not even what had been revealed was enough to shake his ardent supporters. The proposition of a fine and an official Censure, however, only needed a majority vote. As such, the far lesser punishment was eventually obtained as Lucius had told them that morning would likely happen.

 

It was far from what the manipulative wizard deserved, but it was still a ruling against him, which would be publicized throughout the magical world. It stated that the Wizengamot considered Albus Dumbledore to be officially responsible for a host of legal misdeeds. The young heirs found it enjoyable to watch the expression on the old man’s face when he, in his role of Chief Warlock, was required to read out his own Censure as it had been written by the court.

 

“Albus Percival Wulfric Brain Dumbledore has been found to be responsible for the following: custodial interference in his refusal to hand over a child to his legal godmother despite her repeated attempts to gain her rightful custody. The unlawful placement of a Magical minor with an individual other than their legal guardian. The purposeful circumvention of the court, the intentional ignorance of procedure, and a failure to file the proper parchment in assigning guardianship. The use of a Noble’s Magical Signature without permission in order to unlawfully access a vault owned by said Noble. The unlawful sealing of a legal document and the subsequent failure to hear and abide by the legal Wills of Lord and Lady Potter. And the endangerment and negligence which resulted from said unlawful placement and subsequent failure to monitor the wellbeing of the minor child known as Harry James Potter. For these misdeeds, the aforementioned is hereby officially Censured by this court.”

 

Where so many times that day there had been whispers and muttering and exclamations, there was now silence in the wake of the ruling. Harry made his way closer to the memory of the wizard who had caused him so much pain, watching as the old man’s jaw clenched behind his outward look of humility. Draco, for his part, stood next to the image of his father, peering out at the courtroom, trying to see it as his father had. The attention of both boys was seized by the bearded wizard when he raised his wand slightly, bringing it down as if to tap it on his podium to begin bringing the day’s session to an end.

 

Before the process actually began, Lucius raised his wand and waited to be given leave to speak. For a moment, it appeared that the Chief Warlock would not yield the floor, but he eventually did so with an angry expression he was mostly able to hide. “Lord Malfoy?”

 

“Chief Warlock, I have a matter to discuss,” the Lord responded, as though he hadn’t spent the last hour and a half presenting a case against the older man. “I am on the agenda.”

 

When he clenched his teeth this time it was obvious enough that at least some of the Lords and Ladies around him must have noticed it. “You have a matter other than that which has already been addressed?”

 

“Yes, Chief Warlock. I propose that recent events have uncovered a need in our country for a more stringent and clear set of laws to protect the welfare of our most vulnerable members.” The steel grey gaze swept over every member of the assembled court. “I, Lord Malfoy of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, do hereby Introduce the Child Protection and Custody Act for the consideration of this body.”

 

A single, 13 inch parchment appeared in front of each of the thirty-eight Nobles and administrators in the large room. On the parchment was the name of the Act and a clear, concise outline of protections for magical children within both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. The Act had taken the Malfoys and Lady Longbottom a full year to craft with several rounds of discussion with Harry and the other boys throughout the summer before their first-year began. It had been carefully written and structured to provide simple but strict regulation for the monitoring of magical minors under the guardianship of anyone other than their parents.

 

The Act included stringent stipulations for the chain of custody to assure the will of the parents and the safety of the child left behind. It was aimed mostly at orphan situations but it put in place several laws and regulations that would also apply to any magical child who was suspected of being in a dangerous home. Where the Wizarding World had always relied heavily on parents being accountable to themselves for the care of their children, the Act would allow for the Ministry to investigate possible cases of abuse.

 

The Nobles would be far too likely to bristle at overt challenges to their power within their own House, Lord Malfoy had stated early in the process. So the CPC Act was purposefully structured to concentrate on children under guardianships and to only subtly overlap into traditional home situations. It put in place the tools to more fully develop the department of Wizarding Children’s Services, the adults had assured him, but it did so while focusing on situations like his own in order to prevent the things that had happened to him and to utilize the tide of public opinion while outrage was highest over his situation.

 

The members of the assembly had barely had a chance to read through the document before a member of the second tier stood. The green-eyed boy knew what had been planned and was not surprised to see the Noble stand. He knew that not only could nothing be Introduced to the Wizengamot by anyone other than a member of the first two tiers, items also had to be seconded by a member of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses, of which there was only one currently, or a member of an Ancient and Noble House before it could be put to a vote. Luckily for them, they qualified on both counts.

 

“I, Lady Augusta Longbottom of the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom, do second the Introduction of the aforementioned Act and call for a vote of this assembly.”

 

Draco met his best friend’s gaze with a slight smirk as they watched Dumbledore’s jaw clench yet again. “If he grinds his teeth much longer, he might need to stop by the Hospital Wing on his way to bed tonight,” the young blond said softly.

 

Harry swallowed a chuckle as they watched the old man. To oppose an Act structured to protect children and to prevent the illegal actions he had just formally Censured himself for would make it appear that he did not, in fact, believe he had done anything wrong. It would make it seem he didn’t view what Harry had gone through as the horrible mistake he claimed to. And yet, supporting it would be stating that laws needed to be put in place to prevent actions such as his and therefore be an admittance that he had been wrong from the beginning despite his previous assertions that he had been acting in what he thought were Harry’s best interests.

 

It was more than a little amusing to watch the Headmaster struggle to appear calm as he cleared his throat. “I, Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, do request that a postponement be given to the vote on this matter in order to allow the members of this assembly to fully review the Act hereby proposed and give it the consideration it is due. I caution us all to not miss this opportunity to best protect our children by acting in haste.”

 

There was a rumble of voices in the various seats before Lord Ollivander stood once more and seconded the postponement. Before anyone else could request the floor, Dumbledore tapped his wand thrice on his podium, the sounds echoing throughout the chamber as the first Wizengamot session of the Summer Season came to a close. The entire memory began to grow indistinct around them and an instant later, the

two friends exited the pensive with a stumble, then turned to one another and grinned.

 

“Merlin. I can’t wait to see the headlines tomorrow,” exclaimed Draco.

 

“Indeed,” the elder wizard calmly agreed. “Everything seems to be right on track.” Grey eyes drifted from his son to his temporary ward. “I do hope your summer homework is equally so.”

 

Harry and Draco knew a dismissal when they heard one, and with a few polite words, headed to the private library to finish what still remained of the work in question. As they attempted to focus on their work, they wordlessly shared a look of appreciation, for once almost thankful that the Hogwarts curriculum was so far behind. They both doubted the scores they earned on the essays they wrote that day would be less than dismal, otherwise.

****

Saturday’s edition of the Prophet contained the usual Quidditch scores, store ads, and other such mundane information. It also had an article that rehashed the previous editorials about the DADA duel, the interviews with Harry Potter and other Hogwarts students, and a new section they had all expected to see. The section was about three paragraphs long and covered the Wizengamot’s decision that Albus Dumbledore was to be Censured for unlawfully taking custody of a minor, and his subsequent neglect of said minor that led to frequent incidents of abuse over a period of several years. They seemed to be focusing on the theme, as mention of the theft and forgery were almost a footnote at the end.

 

As enjoyable as the almost harsh critique of the beloved Headmaster’s actions was for Harry to read, it was the small article printed the next day that caused a large smile to smother his face. The article wasn’t written by the Daily Prophet staff, but was rather a reprinting of an announcement by the International Confederation of Wizards, originally published in the Wizarding World News. The ICW, after hearing of the Wizengamot’s action had decided to suspend its Supreme Mugwump indefinitely, ‘pending an investigation into Mr. Dumbledore’s actions and an assessment of his legal and moral qualifications to remain Head of the Confederation.’

 

His grin stretched across his lips as he turned to face Draco. “Everyone knows now. At least a lot of it.”

 

The blond returned the expression with a decisive nod. “They do. And they’re listening, Harry. The Wizarding public is paying attention to the fact that their beloved icon of the Light isn’t as pure and wholesome as they thought.”

 

Harry felt like whistling a jaunty tune, and probably would have if he could have done so with any reasonable skill. Instead, he simply spent the day with a smile that was almost painfully wide. Needless to say, it was a good thing that it was Sunday and he was not required to sit for his summer lessons, as he was quite sure he would have been unable to do so. He wasn’t able to sit them on Monday, either, but it wasn’t directly because of his cheerful inattention. Rather, it was a result of that cheer’s cause: the ICW investigation.

 

The investigation, which was apparently, starting with a personal interview of the old man’s primary victim. And which then proceeded the following day with private discussions with each member of the Malfoy family and both Longbottoms. Snape was interviewed along with the Hogwarts staff on Wednesday, which was helpful as they had so far managed to downplay Severus’ involvement in the custody situation.

 

During that time, the two young wizards shared strained smiles as they played on their brooms on the Malfoys’ pitch behind the maze. They clasped hands briefly for no obvious reason as they fed Polaris and laughed convincingly when the peacock tried to chase them through the formal gardens in search of an extra treat. They even sat on the grass at a dead end in the maze that led to one of the water features found so many places on the grounds belonging to Vivien’s descendants. The two hours the boys spent there, leaning back to back as they read over the next day’s lesson with their new tutor, were the least stressful Harry spent that entire week.

 

The brunette eleven-year-old couldn’t help but spend hours thinking about what the others had been asked and how they had answered because the ICW members had cast confidentiality spells before every interview. Not being able to talk with his best friend about his own interview was even worse. Draco was always the one he spoke to about things that were on his mind or about which he was stressed. Yet he couldn’t tell the blond how many of the questions focused on his years with the Dursleys, including what he’d known about how he had come to be there before he had met the Malfoys.

 

The representatives spoke with the Potter heir about what he did and what he learned while at the Manor as well as what he went through before that and seemingly everything that transpired in between. They touched somewhat briefly on his visit with his goblin account manager and had him sign something giving Brynjar permission to speak with them about certain things. And there were just as many questions about Quirrell, and his interactions with the Headmaster during his time at Hogwarts.

 

The wizards and witches from the ICW seemed keen on asking if he had known about certain things when they happened and when he found out and how. Including his knowledge, or lack thereof, of the Wizarding World. They took copies of quite a lot of his memories and even examined him to see if he had been Obliviated at any point. They checked for other things too when they did the diagnostic scans but the Healers they had performing the tests didn’t tell him exactly what they were looking for. He could guess, as one was a specialist in Mind Arts, and the other in Physical Trauma and Injury.

 

The exams were uncomfortable on several levels, but somehow didn’t feel as invasive as the discussion they had requested he have with the Children’s Mind Healer. Though ‘requested’ may not have been the best word to use. Certainly they had asked, and had gone out of their way to tell him it was optional each and every step of the way. But it was clear to him that while he could say no, and the Wizarding Minor Advocate would have enforced the decision, he also knew that they would read a lot into any such refusal.

 

He wanted, more than almost anything, for someone important to take seriously what he had gone through, to do something about it. He thought he had gotten that from the Malfoys, and he had. But having an international authority take notice was different somehow. There was only one thing he wanted more that day than for the ICW members, important wizards and witches in their own countries who had respected Dumbledore – who perhaps still did – to pay attention and _do something_ about what the horrible old man had caused to happen. Harry wanted his friend there with him.

 

He had asked at the beginning if Draco could be there but it wasn’t until they had finished the questions and exams and were telling him briefly how their investigation would proceed and what to expect personally during the process that they had allowed the young blond into the room. During those last ten minutes before the representatives from the ICW left, Harry held one of Draco’s hands like a lifeline. He continued to do so in the subsequent nights when nightmares, which had started to come more frequently again in the wake of the DADA duel, continued to torment him. Only about half included the green light of the Killing Curse or Voldemort’s twisted face protruding from the back of his professor’s head.


	3. Opportunity and Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my pintrest page for characters, locations, and other visuals for this and my other fics here: https://www.pinterest.com/sunfirescribble/

Anticipation and anxiety reached a fever pitch in his head the next Thursday when the Wizengamot met for the second time that Season. “They’ll have to vote on it this time, right? You don’t think Dumbledore will force another delay, do you?”

 

Grey eyes followed his friend as the smaller boy paced from one end of the formal library to the other, ostensibly stretching his legs between their Latin tutor and their time with the private Magical Theory instructor. “He’ll look a right twat if he does.”

 

Draco smiled when the response gained him a short laugh, then continued more seriously as he thought over what his father had told them that morning before he’d left for the Ministry. “You’ve seen the papers this week, Harry, they’ve printed almost nothing except recaps of the Censure, and editorials about your first interview, and letters from readers about the safety of magical children raised outside of the home. The Prophet even included those excerpts from the Act that the paper’s Wizengamot correspondent got ahold of. Public opinion is heavily in favor of the Child Protection and Custody Act. Half the housewitches in the country are practically hysterical about it. He’ll have to let the legislation pass unless he wants to look even worse than he already does.”

 

The assurance proved true that evening when Lord Malfoy returned home to report that the Act had passed with an overwhelming majority of votes in its favor. “All but the old man’s more ardent supporters practically tripped over their own feet to stand and say ‘aye’ when the votes were called for,“ the older blond had relayed with a satisfied smirk.

 

There was some concern at the Manor that public outcry would wane once the Act was passed and the more moderate thinkers could claim that the problem had been resolved. The re-printing of ICW announcements worked rather well to keep that from happening. It was hard for the average witch or wizard to forget about the Headmaster’s involvement in what had happened to the Boy-Who-Lived when the investigation by the ICW continued and Dumbledore remained suspended from the Confederation.

 

“Who else do you think they’ve interviewed now?” Harry asked his friend Thursday evening when it was time to leave their sitting room and get ready for bed.

 

The blond shrugged slightly. “They’re bound to have talked to the goblins by now. Maybe other students or their parents?”

 

“You don’t think…” green eyes shifted to look out one of the large windows despite the darkness on the other side of the glass. “Do you think they would talk with Muggles? I mean, would they talk to-”

 

Draco swallowed hard at the unfinished question and the way Harry still wouldn’t meet his gaze. The grey orbs widened more than necessary as he suddenly spoke up with exaggerated cheer. “Hey, maybe the ICW will look into that group he led during the war. That’d be heading an illegal militia, if not advocating illegal actions, since those people did all kinds of things the Ministry and the court didn’t approve, just because the old coot told them to.”

 

For just a second, a hopeful, almost excited expression brightened the shorter wizard’s face. Then it dimmed once more.

 

“Actual charges would have to be levied by our court. And for that, we’d have to get him off the Wizengamot first,” Harry said with quiet frustration and no shortage of bitterness. “There’s no way charges like that will get through the court with him as Chief Warlock.”

 

Draco reached across to grab his friend’s hand, waiting until green met grey before he spoke in an equally quiet but much more confident tone. “We will. Soon enough, we will. And then he’ll answer for those things, and all the others, that he’s gotten away with all these years.”

 

“Decades,” the brunette corrected with a whisper. The taller boy nodded slightly in acknowledgement but the calm, confident demeanor didn’t shift and eventually Harry sighed and the conversation turned to other topics.

 

Conversations all over Magical Britain focused on little else but the Hogwarts Headmaster as June turned to July and a series of articles by a previously unknown investigative journalist, D. S. Upton, began filling the pages of the Daily Prophet. Harry’s personal favorite was the one that included an in depth interview with Aberforth Dumbledore and the brothers’ former neighbors in Godric’s Hollow. Needless to say, the popular opinion of him as the great defeater of Grindelwald took a sharp turn.

 

In the wake of what the paper called their reporter’s ‘campaign for truth and honesty’ a host of rumors began to circulate around Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. They ranged from the possibility of a formal investigation by the Aurors to a financial audit of Hogwarts, but those all came to naught, just as Lucius and Augusta had predicted the day word of the rumor had reached the Manor.

 

“That perfect reputation may be crumbling around him, but that manipulative goat has far too many friends in high places. They’ll stop any such thing before it even starts, if only to keep others from looking too closely at how they got to such lofty positions. Dumbledore knew what he was doing when he got them placed where they are.”

 

The blond aristocrat nodded in agreement to the Lady Longbottom’s words. “Unless the court orders it, there will not be an investigation of any kind. And the only way the court would do so is if blatant, inarguable evidence is shoved in their faces that Albus Dumbledore has irrefutably done something that _must_ be investigated.”

 

“Which only means, of course,” broke in the soft tones of the former Black daughter, “that we must give them such evidence. Which is what we planned to do anyway, isn’t that right dear?”

 

Lucius nodded at his wife and led the group into the dinning room for dinner. The morning of Monday, July 1st, showed that their work had, to an extent, been done for them. At least as far as the ICW was concerned. The headline that greeted the inhabitants of Malfoy Manor over breakfast that day was in two-inch letters atop the front page.

 

DUMBLEDORE OFF ICW, NEW SUPREME MUGWUMP ANNOUNCED.

 

“They fired him,” Harry said with a wide smile, his tone almost one of disbelief. They had planned to eliminate his means to power and influence one by one, and it was inarguable that his post as Head of the International Confederation of Wizards was one of those. But to see it accomplished already and with no direct action on their parts other than what they had needed to do to chip away at his stranglehold on popular opinion in Britain? It was a little hard to believe things were going so well and his first year had ended less than a month before.

 

The brunette’s cheerful disbelief was echoed by his best friend, but the two adults did not seem surprised. He wondered again what the ICW representatives had talked to them about. The clear voice of the Lady Malfoy distracted him from that train of thought as she began to read excerpts aloud from the official ICW statement. The Boy-Who-Lived couldn’t stop smiling as he started to eat, listening to the carefully worded explanation of the Confederation’s decision to fire Albus Dumbledore.

 

Lucius seemed determined to use the reading as an exercise in interpreting the same type of wording that was often used inside the Wizengamot. The two boys would both need the skill when it came time to take their House Seats on the court, though Harry would be doing so much sooner than the blond. After picking their way through the two paragraphs it came down to three basic categories.

 

The first being the old man’s failure to follow school safety standards regarding the placement of a full-grown Cerberus inside the school without so much as a single ward to keep out students. The second being his violation of international banking regulations in accessing a vault with a forged document. And the third being the fact that in leaving a fifteen month old alone and unwarded on a Muggle doorstep in the middle of the night without even the legal right to have possession of the child in the first place, he had acted in direct opposition to the oaths he gave to protect all children in his care when he took the position of Headmaster.

 

Green eyes narrowed just a little in irritation despite his persistent smile. Those were hardly the worst of the manipulative coot’s crimes. The eldest Malfoy seemed to know exactly what his ward was thinking as he calmly spoke before buttering his scone.

 

“The ICW is an international legal body, they can only address actions which break international law or regulation. The punishment of crimes against British law is the jurisdiction of the Wizengamot. Of those actions which there is clear and direct evidence against him, only a few were against existing international law. And the only reason the Cerberus and your abandonment were able to be addressed is because the ICW has a department of education which oversees the major magical boarding schools, including Hogwarts. Normally they only get involved with issues or interactions between the schools, but their department also sets certain broad standards, which all the schools must meet. Including safety standards and the requirement of particular oaths and contracts by the school Heads.”

 

The youngest blond seemed briefly concerned as he looked back and forth between his father and his friend, but he was unable to suppress his overriding excitement at the success of a major component of their long-term plans.

 

“What a perfect start to the month!” Draco exclaimed, causing Harry to grin even wider. Just because it was hard to believe, and the legal restrictions hard to accept, didn’t mean it was hard to enjoy, after all.

****

Lucius allowed the boys to relish the accomplishment for the rest of the meal, but as everyone began to finish up, he met the green eyes with a once more serious mien. “As the ICW department of education allowed them to address certain school related issues, their specific mention of them also creates an opening for us to act similarly. I believe your input is called for.”

 

“I’m not sure I understand, sir.”

 

“The Hogwarts Board of Governors is entitled to temporarily suspend a sitting Headmaster if it can be proven that they have allowed or caused students injury or otherwise endangered the student population of the school. To permanently remove a Headmaster, a Wizengamot vote is required, but given the formal statement of the ICW that safety standards were not met, we have the authority to act.”

 

“That’s great!” Harry said enthusiastically. “But I’m not sure what you need me to do.”

 

“The day-to-day running of the school is the responsibility of the Headmaster or Headmistress, the oversight of the Head is handled by the Board of Governors. Both have a duty to the Founders’ Heirs and the Hogwarts Trust. You are the only Founder’s Heir, Mr. Potter. When you are Lord, your recommendation will be sought in such matters, and I believe it is only right that you are involved in this process from the beginning. You may not be able to affect the Board’s decisions directly at this time, but I would like to hear your thoughts before I meet the other Hogwarts Governors in twenty-four hours’ time.”

 

Large green eyes blinked several times in silence before the young wizard was able to respond. Even then, he could force out no actual words and instead just nodded. The older wizard returned the gesture and informed his ward that they should retire to his office to hold their conversation. Harry followed him out of the dining room hesitantly, glancing back at his best friend before entering the hallway. Draco smiled encouragingly but was soon out of sight.

 

The brunette had a strong recollection of the first time he had stood before the two grand doors as he waited for Lucius to open them. He had been terrified of whoever was behind those doors when Draco first brought him into the Manor. He had stayed scared of the intimidating wizard for some time, then merely wary of the proud man. He was neither scared nor wary of Lord Malfoy anymore. He respected his opinion and valued his council greatly. And he owed him and Lady Malfoy more than he could ever express for taking him into their home as they had. With this in mind, the Potter heir took a deep breath and stepped through the gilded doors.

 

As they both settled into seats, the basic arrangement and progress of a Board of Governors meeting was quickly outlined as a refresher of the lesson both young wizards had received almost a year before. Harry nodded in the appropriate places to show he remembered and understood. Then an emergency meeting was explained a little more thoroughly, along with what Lucius expected from this meeting in particular. “As such, it is a foregone conclusion that the vote for his suspension will be unanimous. The Board has tried many times over the years to accomplish it and this is by far the best opportunity we could have to be successful.”

 

The brunette nodded once again. “So, the only real issue that you will actually be deciding is who will become acting Headmaster during the suspension.”

 

“Precisely, Mr. Potter. There is, of course, the option to leave the post open as school is not currently in session, but doing so would leave us at a disadvantage.”

 

“Because it might make the Wizengamot think there is no one who could replace him, which could make them even less likely to remove him.”

 

“Indeed. It also has the potential to be harmful even if the removal occurred, as the court could then step in and appoint an interim Headmaster.”

 

“Who would be almost as difficult to replace as Dumbledore.”

 

The older wizard inclined his head in agreement and waited to see what his ward would say without his input. After all, once he turned sixteen, the boy would have to make these kinds of deductions and decisions on his own. He was not disappointed.

 

“So whomever is chosen should be someone who will reassure the court and be acceptable to the Board long term.”

 

“Yes. If we do not choose carefully, it could damage our efforts to be rid of Dumbledore or interfere with our long term goals for Hogwarts.”

 

“And you want my opinion on who the Board should choose?” Harry tried to make his voice sound as confident as it had when discussing the situation theoretically but knew he was unsuccessful. For all that he was objectively aware that he had been well prepared for the basic roles he would need to one day fill, he could not help but feel unsure. It had never before been as clear to him the type of influence and responsibility that he would carry as the Gryffindor heir.

 

Even when they had talked about the curriculum and other changes that needed to be made at Hogwarts, it had felt more like a group decision than one he was making himself. Now, here was one of the most powerful Nobles in the Wizarding world, asking for his input on a decision that would have immediate and longstanding effects. The Noble in question did not alter his expression in the slightest, merely inclined his head again, but the small wizard knew that his unease was clear to his temporary guardian. With a deep breath, Harry tried to treat the situation as another lesson, picking his way through the tangled knots of political and social wrangling that surrounded the post of Hogwarts Headmaster.

 

_Look at it as a series of riddles_ , he told himself. _Break it down and solve each more manageable piece separately_.   “In order to please the Wizengamot, the person would need to be someone that they would think more than competent to fulfill the tasks associated with the role. Which in their minds would be an existing employee of the Ministry or the school.”

 

Green eyes settled briefly on grey as if to make sure he hadn’t said anything inaccurate, before falling back to a spot on the marble surrounding the fireplace to his left. “Their first choice would probably be the Head or Deputy Head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, but both are irrevocably in Dumbledore’s pocket so they aren’t a real consideration. The next most logical would be a longstanding Hogwarts staff member.”

 

Another glance at the blond revealed no hint of his being on the wrong track, so Harry continued talking his way through the viable options. “Of the senior faculty, only the Heads of House have performed any administrative roles within the school. The Deputy Headmistress would be the most obvious, but she is as fully under the old man’s influence as anyone can be.” The fact that she had, according to Severus, been present when he had been abandoned on the Dursleys’ doorstep and therefore could never be someone he would ever personally trust, went without saying.

 

“And the court members we will have to sway would never trust a Slytherin, even if Professor Snape would be willing to take on the role.” The slightest twitch of Lord Malfoy’s mouth betrayed his amusement at the idea of his friend’s reaction should he actually be asked to become Headmaster. Willing would certainly not be an adjective that could be used to describe that reaction, Harry was sure. “Which leaves Sprout and Flitwick.”

 

The young brunette pursed his lips as he thought through the dilemma. The only interaction he had experienced with those professors had been in their respective classes, and while he found them both competent enough in the classroom, he wasn’t sure he knew enough about them to decide whom he would rather see in charge of the school. Turning to his former tutor, he asked what the older man knew of their political leanings or thoughts on magical tradition.

 

“Pomona Sprout has never been one to get involved in such things, she has never seemed particularly interested in administrative tasks that do not directly effect her or Hufflepuff House.”

 

The observation fit quite closely to the affable witch he had seen in the classroom. Which led to another question. “Do you think she would stand up to McGonagall if she needed to? She would still be Deputy Headmistress, after all. If Sprout took over and just allowed McGonagall to do most of the work, it would be little different than putting the Gryffindor in charge. And Sprout seems so friendly and trusting that she might never see the _help_ as an attempt to keep control.”

 

Lord Malfoy gave a conciliatory nod but did not say anything else, leaving the eleven-year-old to continue without comment. Taking the lack of correction as agreement, green eyes narrowed as they pictured the diminutive Charms Professor. He knew little about him other than he was half goblin and was easily amused in the classroom. The latter might indicate too easy-going of a disposition for someone that would need to keep the Transfiguration Professor from taking charge in Dumbledore’s stead. The former, however, was somewhat more promising. He recalled his recent trip to Gringotts and how helpful and informative the creatures had been. They certainly hadn’t gone too far out of their way to talk to him before, but they had provided damning information on the old fool without strictly being asked to do so.

 

“Is Flitwick at all involved in the Goblin Horde, or does he live entirely as a wizard?”

 

“He lives largely as a wizard, but he does hold a low ranking position on the Horde Council. The content of such meeting is never divulged to wizards but within the bank, Flitwick is treated with some respect and no outright disapproval.”

 

And he would, Harry inferred, be treated with clear disapproval if he ever sided with Wizarding law or society on topics or situations brought before the Horde Council. Which meant the Professor might be more likely to have opinions contrary to Dumbledore or others like him. According to one of the elder Malfoy’s contacts, who worked for Gringotts, it was certainly no secret inside the bank that Albus Dumbledore was not on friendly terms with the Goblin Horde. And goblins in general were never known for being easily influenced. If Flitwick was on good terms with the Horde he was likely to have more in common with the average goblin than the average wizard.

 

“Out of all the options, I believe Professor Flitwick could be our best chance at pacifying the Wizengamot and any less fervent of Dumbledore’s supporters without placing someone in charge that would act against the Board purely on principal.”

 

For the first time since they left the breakfast table, Lucius Malfoy fixed the Potter heir with an expression of approval “I am glad that you think so. Filius Flitwick would be my recommendation to the Board as well. I will do my best to make the preference clear to the remainder of the Hogwarts Governors but I do not foresee any stringent opposition to the appointment. Is there anything else that you feel the Board should consider or are there any questions you have for me on this subject?”

 

The young wizard was about to say no when something teased at the corner of his mind. Neither wizard said anything for several minutes as the brunette tried to determine what it was that he wanted to ask. He folded his hands in his lap almost absently, the slight discomfort drawing his attention to the still red palms, the burns having healed slowly over the weeks since his altercation with the possessed professor. “Is it possible for an interim Headmaster to fill a vacant staff position, or for the Board of Governors to do so while the Headmaster is suspended?”

 

“In theory, yes. But the appointment would need to be agreed upon by both the acting Head and the Board in order for it to be put into place during the suspension.”

 

“And would the appointment hold up after the suspension was over?”

 

“Again, theoretically, yes. However, if Dumbledore were to be reinstated, he would no doubt replace the new professor simply to make sure that the Board had no say in the hire.”

 

Harry nodded absently. “But if the suspension held and the old man were removed permanently, the new hire would probably remain, since the interim Head had helped to chose them in the first place?”

 

“It is most likely, yes. Did you have an opinion on an open staff position, Heir Gryffindor?”

 

Harry sat back in surprise at the formal address. Lord Malfoy had never called him that before. No one had. It felt decidedly strange and a little uncomfortable as it reinforced the sense of almost overwhelming responsibility from the start of the discussion. It took a few seconds before the brunette was able to reply. “Yes, I did. That is, I think, given the quality of professors who have been hired for the Defense position in the past, it would be a good idea if the post were filled now, while the Board will have a say in who is selected. If we put it off until the matter of Headmaster is settled, we will have less influence on the choice that is made.”

 

“I believe, Mr. Potter, that you make an excellent point. I will certainly bring the vacancy to the Board’s attention so that we can begin compiling a list of suggestions to the interim Head as soon as possible.”

 

Green eyes closed in relief for the space of a heartbeat before they met grey with more calm and more confidence than the young wizard had felt since the start of breakfast. He didn’t think he imagined the spark of approval and perhaps even pride that showed in the older man’s face as Harry left him to contact the rest of the Board and arrange the meeting for the next morning.

 

The memory of that expression, and the affectionate efforts of Excalibur, kept the brunette calm throughout the day and night. But by the time Lord Malfoy had departed for the meeting he had begun to feel uncertain once more. He wasn’t the only one to be waiting impatiently for the eldest blond’s return the day of the Board meeting. Harry, Draco, Narcissa, and even Augusta and Neville, spent the majority of that Tuesday counting the hours until the Lord’s return.

 

Not that the suspension of Albus Dumbledore wasn’t a foregone conclusion, it most certainly was. But the official decision as to the old fool’s replacement would impact the next day’s Wizengamot session, and plans needed to be finalized for their upcoming efforts in the court. The long awaited discussion started over tea that afternoon and lasted through dinner. When the meeting of the Board of Governors had been summarized without any surprises and the entirety of the case against Dumbledore as Headmaster picked apart and put back together again in preparation for court, the nervous air that had permeated the Manor all day finally started to dissipate. For the most part.

 

Harry felt as if his stomach were just as full of nerves as food when everyone gathered in the parlor for pudding and drinks. He knew perfectly well that the Board could suspend but not remove a school Head without a majority vote in the Wizengamot. It had been discussed and explained many times, and he himself had read the section in the school Charter. It was one of the only lines in Dumbledore’s version that had not been altered much from the original, a fact which was all the more frustrating.

 

He couldn’t disagree with the basic idea, it went along with the Founders’ intentions. Seeing it so warped and twisted and still outwardly the same somehow made the only Founders’ Heir that much more angry, as it felt like his legacy was being commandeered for another’s purpose. As if it were being mocked by the very man who was dismantling every other aspect of the Charter. The man who, by and large, stood between them and a chance to make Hogwarts all it was meant to be.

 

A sudden hiss in his ear brought vacant green eyes back to those around him. “Harry,” his best friend hissed again. “You all right?”

 

The brunette nodded just a little and flashed a thankful, if wilted, smile at the blond before resolutely turning his attention back to the discussion. It had been decided that, with his temporary custody officially settled and parchment already filed to make it permanent, the Boy-Who-Lived would be making his first appearance in the Wizengamot chambers. Only as an observer, but there all the same. The adults seemed to think that his presence would be meaningful to many and there were several plans to use it to their advantage.

 

His going meant that what was being said that night would be important for him to know. Entering the courtroom, even in the audience, was a daunting prospect for the young wizard who was only really comfortable in small gatherings of his closest friends. Hogwarts had been bad enough. A shudder ran through him at the thought of all the eyes that would be watching him, important eyes that would be judging him. The feel of another warm hand giving his a quick squeeze brought the Potter heir back to himself yet again, and he resolved to stay focused for the rest of the night. He started by drinking a measured sip of his tea and taking stock of where the conversation had gotten to while he was distracted.

 

The outspoken Regent for the House of Longbottom was making a huffing sound over her coffee, seeming to be agreeing reluctantly with something one of the others had said. As her gaze, when it rose from her cup, focused on the eldest Malfoy, Harry could only assume that he had been the one she was responding to.

 

“He certainly has used the forgetful and doddering old man routine to manipulate and put himself in a position of authority more than once while I’ve been on the court,” Augusta admitted.

 

“I believe it has been one of his favorite tactics for decades,” agreed the Lord Malfoy.   “My father complained about it often. And seeing as he has been featured so heavily in the Prophet lately, I think he will assume that my being on the agenda tomorrow can only be an attempt by myself or the Board to take advantage of his battered reputation.”

 

“Well, Dumbledore may be underhanded and more focused on his greater good than the welfare of others, but he has never been stupid,” came the gruff response.

 

“As such,” cut in the younger Lady, “it sounds like we can expect the Chief Warlock to attempt a power-play tomorrow, perhaps even by preventing a vote on whatever he thinks you might be presenting to the court.”

 

Her husband nodded as he set down his glass of port. “Quite so. If he were sure of the exact nature of my business he would no doubt have the Head of the applicable department absent themselves from the day’s proceedings. However, as none but the Governors know of today’s Board meeting, he will most likely prevent the vote himself.”

 

“Meaning he will be conveniently too busy to attend.” The older witch shrugged and placed her fork on her empty dessert plate. “There are only so many ways to keep a vote from happening, and Merlin knows he has enough gerbils in the Noble Houses to relate every word and gesture that takes place while he is gone.”

 

“Dumbledore will no doubt think that forcing the court to wait on him will put him in a position of power and remind the Wizengamot that he is indispensible to the running of Magical Britain.” For the first time, the wizard’s grey eyes locked on Harry’s. “He will be most disappointed, will he not, Mr. Potter?”

 

Harry reminded himself of all the plans and strategies and contingencies that had been crafted and polished in this very room. They were not going into this confrontation unprepared. Albus Dumbledore may be powerful, for now, but he was not invincible. The young brunette took a deep breath, absently lifted Excalibur into his lap, and met the eyes of every person in the room one after another. “He will be most disappointed.”


	4. Battle of Wits and Rules

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Second-Time-Savior of the Wizarding World, the Potter heir, the Peverell heir. He could hear the whispers just clearly enough to know without doubt that he was the topic of every conversation but not well enough to determine exactly what they were saying about him. The brunette did his best to not shift nervously when taking his seat as more than half the people observing this session of the Wizengamot pointed at him with varying degrees of subtlety.

 

The visitor’s gallery had been full to bursting in the previous session as every Noble in Magical Britain had gone home after the court opened and talked about little else but the Censure of Albus Dumbledore. Lucius had warned him that the audience numbers would likely be just as high that day and even as green eyes tried not to look around himself any more than strictly necessary, he could confirm the blond had been correct. He could only imagine how many people would be showing up to view the court sessions over the next few weeks. He, the Malfoys, and Lady Longbottom intended to put on quite a show, after all.

 

Of course, the Wizarding public seemed to think his mere presence was enough of a show to keep their interest and fuel their constant gossip. Thankfully, Lucius had taken that into account and secured him a private box from which to view the session. It may not keep him out of sight, but it at least prevented anyone from touching him and with the privacy wards up they couldn’t talk to him either. There were a few other private boxes in the visitor’s gallery, but he hadn’t taken the time to try and figure out who was in them. As they were by and large reserved for only those with the highest status, he could make an educated guess anyway.

 

It wasn’t a huge pool of potential individuals. Unless it was a special session open to the public, the only witches or wizards allowed to observe the court were direct relatives of a Sitting Lord or Lady. Normally that meant wives and heirs, but from the volume of voices alone it was obvious that many more than that were in attendance. _Thank Merlin for privacy wards_ , he thought. Who knew how many people would be trying to talk to him otherwise.

 

Even without being able to speak to him, most of the many audience members were talking about or just staring at him, and he spared a moment to hope that the session would start soon so everyone had something else to focus on. For himself, the young wizard focused as hard as he could on reviewing the many, many rules and protocols of the Wizengamot. This last summer in particular, he and Draco both had been tutored on such political minutiae of the court. Including the people who existed within it. He could remember a time when he had thought learning the Noble rankings within the court and wider Wizarding society had been overwhelming. That had been nothing compared to the in-depth review of every wizard or witch who Sat on the court and their House.

 

He found himself grateful for those tedious lessons as he surreptitiously watched the first few Wizengamot members filter into the courtroom below him. He quickly identified each in turn, reminding himself where they had stood in the past, and which, if any, voting bloc they were a part of. The Malfoy Bloc was easiest to name, as Lucius had possessed files on each of them. He knew from discussions with the blond Lord that a few of his bloc had started to waver when he began tailoring his political approach to their developing plans. He knew who they were and recalled how they had reacted in the pensive memory of that first session. He remembered how others had reacted as well, naming them one by one and placing them into two categories in his mind: Dumbledore’s lemmings, and those who might be open to another view.

 

They were playing for keeps, a long-term plan with long-term results. Which he would be a direct part of sooner than he was strictly comfortable with. The surprised and assessing glances of the filling seats were more than he was comfortable with too. _The audience was bad enough but to have the court watching too is almost too much_ , he admitted to himself. With a deep breath, Harry concentrated on all the little tricks he had learned over the years to hide his discomfort and fear. When he reopened his eyes he knew he appeared calm and comfortable if not entirely as confident as he’d hoped.

 

Focusing once more he counted off all the solid members of the Malfoy Bloc, those who had wavered or left, and those who appeared almost ready to join. Even without the new additions, they held enough of the votes to greatly effect the outcome of what they all hoped would be the push they needed to free Hogwarts of the old man’s control. While a criminal case required every seat filled and at least three quarters of the vote to convict, civil cases like the one before them only needed more than half of the possible votes. The brunette couldn’t keep from mentally recalculating how many they had and how many they would have once he was old enough to assign his Proxies.

 

The numbers were at least partially comforting as his nerves began to spike once more. Almost all the members had taken their seats, which meant the third session of the Season would be starting soon. Almost all. There was one notable seat still unoccupied: that of the Chief Warlock. The pointed absence of Albus Dumbledore had a calming effect on the eleven-year-old. _We expected this, we planned for this,_ Harry repeated to himself.

 

Three things were required, as far as attendance went, in order to vote on a civil matter. He could hear Lord Malfoy’s voice as if the lesson had occurred the day before. _The presence of two members of the administrative tier is required: the Chief Warlock, and the Head of whichever department is most applicable to the case at hand. Furthermore, the presence of two thirds of each of the top three tiers of the court is also required. The absence of any one of these will prevent a vote from taking place._

 

_We have four Ancient and Noble seats out of eight and four Ancient House seats out of ten._ Harry reminded himself. _Plus we control the only currently active Most Ancient and Noble seat. At least for now_ , Harry noted with a mental smile. _There are forty sessions each year, and every member can miss thirteen of them without penalty. If he wants to play power games, we can do that. We will do that. Dumbledore may think he’ll get his way by throwing his weight around like this, but the title of Chief Warlock only comes with so much power, despite what he’s been able to get away with because of it. We can hold this whole bloody court hostage if we need to._

 

It was equally as difficult for him to keep from smirking at the thought as it was for him to sit still as the full court, minus its Chief Warlock, took their seats. Harry wanted to point out the way all of Dumbledore’s cronies were looking so smug and comment on how they would wipe that look off the sycophants’ faces soon enough. But there was no one there to talk to. There was no one to sit with him and tell him, even if only with a nod or a smile or a squeeze of his hand, that everything would work out just like they’d planned. _Probably only one more after this, then Draco will be here, just like we planned. If he were here now he’d tell me to stop worrying so bloody much and get ready to enjoy the show,_ the brunette thought.

 

He was pulled from his internal musings as the Minister stood, and acting in the Chief Warlock’s place, called the session to order, and read off the agenda for the day. Without the Chief Warlock, only someone already on the agenda would be allowed to speak to the court as the Chief Warlock had to grant the floor to any unscheduled individual. It wasn’t a concern today, as Lord Malfoy was first on the agenda and had been since the start of the Season.

 

It would not be so easy to get a spot, however, now that it was clear that he would be moving against the mighty Dumbledore. The likelihood of a member of the Malfoy Bloc being ceded the floor while the old fool was Chief Warlock was very low. But that was a problem for another day, and one they had already taken into account. Even so, the Boy-Who-Lived had to swallow past his nerves to get a full breath as his mentor began to speak.

 

“I am here today to address an issue that is of great concern to every parent and every child in Magical Britain. It is not one which I believe many of you will be surprised. I have come before this court several times before on behalf of the Hogwarts Board of Governors. We have asked for changes to the administration of our school.” Cool grey eyes scanned over the other Nobles, and Harry was sure that they met all but the helpless lemmings who wouldn’t vote against Dumbledore even if he Avada Kedavra’d someone in front of them.

 

“In light of recent events this matter should not be in question any longer. Changes are needed. An investigation is needed. But most importantly, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore needs to be replaced. As of yesterday morning, the Board has suspended his rights to the title and position of Headmaster of Hogwarts. I stand here now and tell each and every one of you, this court needs to remove him permanently.”

 

It was hardly a surprise when Lord Karlyle Shacklebolt stood and protested, the family was known to almost worship Dumbledore, but it made Harry tense just the same. “As you have been told before, Lord Malfoy, neither you nor the Board of Governors have the right to remove a sitting Headmaster.”

 

The brunette forced himself to relax, to keep his body language calm and unconcerned as he had been taught by the man who responded in a perfectly even tone. “I have every right to act within my role as Head of the Board of Governors. The Board can lodge a formal Protest as we have eleven times in the past fifteen years. The Board can also, with cause, temporarily suspend a sitting Headmaster and then appeal to the court for permanent removal. That is what we are doing now, and it is fully within our rights.”

 

The Boy-Who-Lived tensed internally but did not let his discomfort show as the blond aristocrat continued. “This court has found Albus Dumbledore responsible for the grievous neglect and abuse of a child. This court has Censured him for those and the other crimes he committed against Magical Britain. The ICW suspended him from his role on their court and found him suspect enough to investigate themselves. The ICW then subsequently removed him from the Confederation entirely based on their investigation and the disregard they found him to have for the safety of his students.”

 

The courtroom was quiet, not even the fool’s staunch supporters spoke. Harry wanted to assume it was because everything that had been said was fact and could not be argued. He was hesitant to give them credit for that type of logical thinking however. Most likely, the brunette thought, they had not been prepared for exactly this situation and were feverishly trying to come up with something to say. Lucius Malfoy did not have that difficulty; he continued smoothly.

 

“Myself and the Board of Governors, are following letter of the law. We are attempting to address the concerns of the Board and the parents of Hogwarts students. We are asking this court to follow through with its role as the oversight of a seated Headmaster.” That smooth tone took on a hint of sarcasm. “Though I can understand why that might be difficult for you to understand. I admit to finding myself somewhat perplexed with the idea of this court satisfactorily acting as arbitrator of any difficulties the parents and Board have with the Headmaster when that Headmaster is also Chief Warlock.”

 

The previous sarcasm grew heavy enough that no one in the court or audience would be able to miss it. “One might indeed wonder if these two positions might be meant to _not_ be held by the same person. After all, overseeing one’s self is somewhat contradictory.”

 

From Harry’s position the Lady Shafiq, who had been acting on behalf of her son since her husband’s death ten years before, looked as if she tried to say something. The tall wizard standing before the court took no notice and continued talking in a voice that needed no Sonorus to be heard in the very back of the gallery where the famous eleven-year-old was sitting.

 

“Indeed, the Founders must have questioned the wisdom of that type of behavior as checks and balances were insured by the Hogwarts Charter. One is the Board of Governors, with their supposed ability to lodge a formal Protest, and the right to suspend a Headmaster deemed dangerous to the school or student body. The other is this court, which can take a vote of no confidence in the Headmaster and remove him from his post.”

 

The young wizard could see several faces, which had been inarguably dismissive at the beginning of the session grow more neutral. “The role of oversight includes the ability to oversee hiring, to even force firing if evidence can be found that the employee is unqualified or poses a risk. Yet, these Founder-given rights have been ignored or superseded. And the only way to appeal those actions is through a court headed by the individual responsible.”

 

The Malfoys’ ward had braced himself for many days of what would amount to a tug of war with the Chief Warlock for power and influence over the Wizengamot. He felt a trickle of hope that they had underestimated the situation and it might be easier to convince the other Nobles than they had expected. In addition to the seven members of the administrative tier, himself included, there had been twelve Houses which had always followed and supported Dumbledore. Longbottom had, of course, seen through the old man as soon as she had learned of Harry’s situation. Two or three others who had started the season in the fool’s pocket looked less certain of his perfection. They at least looked to be considering the evidence being presented.

 

From what he could see without appearing to do so, the Potter heir could spot at least half a dozen members of the audience who wore either thoughtful or surprised expressions. There were probably twice as many observers who seemed to be angry at the very idea of the Headmaster or the court having done anything wrong. Every member of the Malfoy Bloc and their families that were within sight of the green pools was nodding along with the information being presented, some of them looking as outraged as Harry had felt since learning of the situation.

 

Mixed reactions, to be sure, but not as heavily in favor of the Chief Warlock as they had feared. Lord Albert Binns was not mixed in his views at all as he stood from his seat. “The certified copy of the Hogwarts Charter in this court’s possession states differently, Lord Malfoy.”

 

One blond brow arched in response. “Yes, I imagine the copy _certified_ by our Chief Warlock says many things. All of which I am _sure_ are an accurate representation of the thoughts of Hogwarts’ Founders, four of history’s most intelligent wizards and witches. Including, based on the actions of our very _conscientious_ ” the sneer did not show in his face, but it was clear in his voice as he drew out the word, “Headmaster, the infinitely logical decision of having our children taught at OWL and NEWT level in DADA by a Muggle Studies professor vetted so well that he remained within the school an entire year whilst possessed by a dark wizard. And let us not forget, a history curriculum based solely on goblin wars and witch burnings, without a single word about King Arthur or Camelot, or the Founders themselves.”

 

Lord Binns bristled at the insult to his great grandfather’s teaching and glared at the blond, though he allowed Lord Harrigan Weasley to be the one to leap to the old coot’s defense. “The Headmaster has the expertise to make those decisions, not you.”

 

“Of course,” drawled Lord Malfoy. “Let us review a few of the choices he has made with all of that expertise. Such as hiring and refusing to fire Professor Trelawny, a known drunk, known even by the students as she often drinks during class time, while also burning potentially hallucinogenic incense. Surely only an expert in such matters of education would be wise enough to think such a woman responsible, and so vehemently that he has refused to fire her even after three protests by the Board and over a hundred written complaints by parents.”

 

Harry watched many Nobles and their family members, even some of the old fool’s supporters, sit and blink silently. He smothered the snort of disgust. _They probably can’t even argue with that in their own tiny little minds_ , the young wizard thought to himself. To even some of the most accepting of parents, the reason behind retaining Trelawny was elusive. It had defied all possible logic as far as he was concerned. He had not seen how it could possibly aid the old man’s image of a responsible and enlightened educator. It wasn’t until he had been told of the origin of the ridiculous prophecy about him that the Boy-Who-Lived understood why the Headmaster was so intent on maintaining control of the woman.

 

“Surely the members of this august body can agree that all those entrusted with teaching and caring for our children should be vetted for Polyjuice, curses, behavioral charms and at least possession. Yet not even the school wards, let alone most of the other staff, noticed a problem with Professor Quirrell until he attacked a student in the middle of class.”

 

Grey eyes narrowed as they swept the entire chamber. “Surely even your copy of the Charter says that protective wards on school property – as with every other public building in Britain, in accordance with Ministry regulations – should be updated yearly by the goblins. Yet the Headmaster has been doing it himself since Gringotts filed a formal complaint against the Headmaster’s questionable conduct with school accounts twenty years ago.”

 

This, of course, would be the point at which a vote was normally called for, but he knew that was impossible. Instead of letting himself be annoyed, Harry watched with dubious amusement as the legal debate devolved into a court-wide argument that wouldn’t be out of place on a primary school playground. Nearly two-dozen Lords and Ladies speculated loudly about whether the Headmaster considered himself too good for such a trivial matter as public safety. The majority of the rest proclaimed vehemently that Albus Dumbledore was the strongest, most respected wizard since the Founders themselves, and was more than qualified to maintain the school wards on his own.

By the end of the day the brunette couldn’t decide if he was disappointed to have his entertainment end or eager to escape the petty squabbles of Wizarding society’s ruling classes. Draco was strongly of the former view when he described the session to his best friend that night. The other boy was so entertained as a matter of fact, that Lady Malfoy had to return to their rooms an hour after they were to be in bed to ask them to stop laughing long enough to go to sleep

 

The Malfoy heir would only have to be regaled second hand with court gossip one more time as the next session proceeded exactly as Lucius and Augusta had predicted.

 

Having been raised for several rather unfortunate years in the Muggle world, Harry had at first been rather surprised to learn that the concept of weekdays and weekends was only applied selectively in magical society, or at least the higher reaches of it where going to work meant meeting with other Nobles or company heads, or attending court sessions. It had taken some time to adjust to over the years, but by the time he was introduced to the basic rules of the Wizengamot he was not the least bit shocked to be told that court was held on the 3rd, 7th, 9th, 13th, 18th, 21st, and 27th of each given month, regardless of what day of the week those fell on.

 

_The numerological significance and magical power attributed to the date is seen as more important within those areas which still honor the Old Ways. The Wizengamot was established long before Saturday and Sunday gained such meaning._ Lady Malfoy had explained one day when her husband had to attend court and she took over the boys’ introduction to its rules. He could now see the truth of it as he settled into his private box in the court gallery on the morning of July 7th to watch the fourth session of the Summer Season. Not a single Noble on the court, nor any of those family members arrayed in the audience, said a word about it being Sunday morning.

 

They said quite a lot, however, in hushed excitement when the Chief Warlock arrived with a grandfatherly smile and twinkling eyes as he apologized for his absence. He played it off as a last minute, unavoidable, bit of business at the school and acted shocked and apologetic that his absence had prevented a vote. The old man then acted quite disappointed to inform the Nobles that the Head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority – coincidentally the Ministry Head who would be required to hold a vote on the Hogwarts matter – was busy with the issue that he himself had been dealing with, and would not be able to attend the session.

 

Harry could fully understand the frustration with which his mentor had always spoken when they discussed court proceedings. The young boy found it aggravating to sit and watch the ridiculous display and not be able to say anything about the obvious lies. He imagined it was much worse to deal with it first hand every court Season. Instead of focusing on that, however, he did his best to look at the situation tactically. They had all talked over the situation and their expectations the night before and had agreed the old man would most likely do what he had more than once when a matter, or piece of legislation, were put before the court that he did not want. That is, he blocked a vote on the undesirable item and then had his own minion present an alternate version that he had approved. Once the alternate had been voted in, the original item was declared unnecessary as there was already a bill or law or decision in place that addressed the issue. His, of course.

 

_If he’s preventing a vote on his own measure today, he must be concerned that the presentation last session could have won over enough people to affect this vote._ Harry thought to himself. He was fairly certain of that as well, and as annoying as the old coot’s power games were, in this instance, it would only help them in the end. It was almost guaranteed that Dumbledore’s highest ranking stooge, Lord Ollivander, would try to convince enough Nobles that the old man’s bill was the better choice, and until then there would simply not be a vote on either. Preventing movement of the Board of Governors’ request for the Headmaster’s dismissal was hardly a problem for the old man. As the Chief Warlock, he was in control of the floor. This Wizengamot rule was shown quite clearly by the coot’s ever so polite refusal to allow the Lord Malfoy to speak when the session started minutes later.

 

The tactic was hardly a surprise to anyone in the courtroom, as it was another favorite of Dumbledore’s, though Harry couldn’t help but feel frustrated by how easily so many on the court allowed themselves to be led by the bearded fool. It wasn’t as if the elderly wizard could pretend that he hadn’t seen Lucius’ request to speak on the agenda, at least half of the court members had watched the blond ask to be put on the agenda at the end of the last session. Yet no one questioned the Chief Warlock when he twinkled his way through an insincere apology and insisted that since Lord Ollivander was already on the schedule and Lord Malfoy was not, that the latter would have to wait for the former’s matter to be settled before he had a turn to speak.

 

The reasoning behind this was not even slightly hidden as the older Lord launched immediately into a clearly rehearsed speech about the need to improve the magical education system in Britain by strengthening the authority of the school’s administration and the corresponding department at the Ministry. It was repeated in several different ways that education should only be controlled by those who worked in that field and as such were far more qualified to make decisions about such things than anyone else. The argument in favor of a bill that would allow the Headmaster and Head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority almost unchecked power over all aspects of Hogwarts continued for the duration of the day’s session.

 

Lord Malfoy did not stay behind to ask to be put on the agenda again, though the Boy-Who-Lived left too soon to observe if any of the other Nobles commented on the blatant way the blond had been ignored. By the time the fifth session of the Summer Season began, however, what little he could pick up from his private box, made Harry certain that his mentor was the focus of almost every discussion within the chamber. Or rather, his absence was the topic of discussion. As the only Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House, the aristocrat’s absence halted any planned vote as surely as the Chief Warlock’s had.

 

Green eyes did not miss the clear annoyance on the old man’s face when he noted that the blond was not present. Nor did they miss the quickly hidden anger when those twinkling blue orbs landed on the Potter heir in the visitor’s gallery. Harry took as deep a breath as he could without it showing and resisted the urge to grab the hand of the boy sitting beside him. The calm presence of his best friend only ten centimeters to his right was comforting even without the warm hand in his. He was especially grateful to not be alone as the absence of the father and the presence of the son – and that son’s location – was noticed by one witch and wizard after another.

 

As much as he hadn’t wanted to, the brunette had arrived at the Ministry and entered the courtroom by himself, with the young blond following right before the session was to begin. Because of that, it was only now, as the Chief Warlock prepared to call the court to order, that the blond sitting with Harry Potter was widely noticed. The significance of the Malfoy heir sitting with the famous boy in a private box on the day the Lord of his House was absent, following as it did the blatant way he had been ignored in the previous session, was not lost on a single adult within the chamber. Wizengamot member, and audience member alike, recognized the symbolic alignment of the House of Malfoy with the House of Potter following the former’s polite clash with the Chief Warlock.

 

Every Magical inside the courtroom could sense the tension as Dumbledore tapped his wand on his podium to call the session to order. They could deduce, quite easily, that the power-play the old wizard had conducted in the two previous sessions was being answered. Was being challenged. Despite the heavy atmosphere as the Nobles discussed small matters in lieu of the educational proposals that could not be voted on without the Lord Malfoy, the session ended without a full understanding of where the challenge to the Chief Warlock’s control of the court would lead. Certainly, no one expected what would come in the weeks that followed.

 

Four days later, at the sixth session of the court’s Summer Season, the small brunette found himself once more inside the familiar private box, his best friend at his side for the second time. The two boys had been up rather late the night before, huddled together on Harry’s bed as the smaller wizard had fought sleep and the nightmares that he was afraid would come with it. The friends had filled the hours with speculation on how the various members of the Wizengamot would react when they realized that what had started on the first Sunday in July was not just a brief jockeying for power between a Lord and the Chief Warlock.

 

“Some of them, especially Lords and Ladies of the Old Families, will see what we are doing tomorrow,” Draco had whispered.

 

Harry had shrugged as he attempted to find a more comfortable position under the light cashmere blanket. “I don’t know. So many follow the bastard’s lead, and he will downplay the situation as long as possible. He won’t want to admit that there is a voting bloc large enough or strong enough to challenge him, let alone that the challenge has already been issued. There are plenty who admire and trust him despite recent events, and they will be just as reluctant to acknowledge the situation as he is.”

 

Both predictions proved correct in the light of day, as the oldest families present all took obvious note of the three members of the Ancient and Noble Houses who were pointedly absent at that day’s session. The Lords Bulstrode, Greengrass, and Nott had all readily agreed to stay home when the Head of their bloc had Floo’d them the night before, shortly before the two boys had been sent to bed. While only a portion of the current Malfoy Bloc, the three Nobles were enough of a percentage of their court tier to prevent voting even with the return of the Lord Malfoy. At the same time, Dumbledore wore a benevolent, if disappointed, expression throughout the session and the old man’s lemmings followed suit.

 

The young wizards were sure that even those who were being intentionally obtuse had to notice the once again tense atmosphere as Lucius Malfoy requested leave to address the court and was politely refused by the Chief Warlock. This was immediately followed by a similar request by the Lady Longbottom that was also refused on a flimsy excuse. At the first strategy session the year before, Harry had questioned whether the old manipulator would assume the Lady who had spent so many years as his ardent supporter had become a threat in the event of a voting stall.

 

“No matter how long someone supports him, Albus will not hesitate to change his view of them at the first sign that their allegiance has changed. If Augusta speaks on your behalf in court or speaks in favor of any legislation proposed by a Noble in opposition to him, he will immediately place her in the opposing camp and will treat her as a threat,” Severus Snape had explained over tea and scones. “If things progress as we expect, the old fool will no doubt view anyone who agrees with something Lucius says as a threat to his control of the Wizengamot. Even Lady Longbottom.”

 

Their Head of House was right, of course. Supporting Malfoy’s Child Protection and Custody Act had been more than enough to make Dumbledore cautious, and the Lady’s attempt to bring up the Board of Governors’ unfinished petition was swiftly prevented.

 

“At least now Neville can sit with us during sessions,” Draco pointed out when they returned to the Manor that afternoon.

 

Harry could not argue with the assumption that the House of Longbottom would be symbolically siding with the Boy-Who-Lived in response to Albus Dumbldore’s refusal to allow the Lady to speak. Nor could he deny his relief at having their friend with them when they had to sit stoically under so many judgmental gazes. Both were undeniably true. Though the brunette was quite sure, after watching his shy friend struggle with the scrutiny five days later, that Neville would not find relief in his being included in such a way. Even so, his discomfort did not stop the sandy-haired Hufflepuff from joining the boys’ new routine of dissecting the latest court session, making predictions for the next one, and ridiculing the old man and all his supporters.

 

The first two portions of the routine were almost as repetitive as the absence of several bloc members and the denied requests by Lord Malfoy and Lady Longbottom to address the court. The next two sessions were as unsurprising and stressful as possible, with the Ancient and Noble bloc members taking turns with those in the Ancient tier in order to allow the entirety of the bloc to witness their Chief Warlock look less ‘innocent grandfather’ and more ‘frustrated manipulator’ with every refusal to cede the floor to those intent on requesting his dismal from Hogwarts.

 

The last portion of their routine was far less boring. Draco, especially, was quite good at coming up with new and ever more entertaining ways to mock those who stood against them. The boys were not the only ones to partake in such forms of entertainment. The adults at the Manor, be they resident or visitor, were often heard describing Ollivander and the others in unflattering but amusing ways.

 

The obvious and unprecedented power-play in the closed court was meant to be private and therefore was reported an _entire_ two sessions after it started, allowing even the Daily Prophet to try its hand at deriding certain members of the court, though they did so far more subtly than anyone else. The tug of war over influence of the Wizengamot was soon dubbed by the paper, the _Sensational Stall of the Summer Season._ It packed the visitor gallery ever-tighter session after session. The crowd was never so full as on what was expected to be the last day of The Stall.

 

The seventh session of what amounted to a Malfoy filibuster was also the first session after Harry Potter turned twelve and would therefore be formally assigning his Proxies. As Proxy assignments were automatically added to the court’s agenda and always required a full court, there was no excuse acceptable for a Noble member to be absent or the heir to be denied leave to speak. This meant that everyone knew the power-play would be forced to come to a head on the third of August, and therefore, every single Magical who had a right to observe the court made sure to do so that Saturday.

 

Harry took a deep breath and tugged absently at his waistcoat. He, Draco, and Neville had all been dressed with deliberate care by Narcissa herself an hour before. Each heir, in a statement of solidarity between their Houses, had been given exactly the same three-piece suit, each in different colors. Draco wore a dark grey with a lighter grey tie and kerchief while Neville had on a navy suit and a tie and kerchief in a rich blue. The brunette was outfitted in a suit of crisp black with a vibrant red tie and kerchief. Gryffindor red, of course. He may have sorted Slytherin, but both his parents had been lions and today would reveal the depth of his House’s connection to Godric himself.

 

While the adults already on the court had to wear the standard plum colored robes of the Wizengamot, Narcissa had left the Manor that morning in a black gown and sheer black over-robe, both liberally decorated with sparkling silver, the overall impression one of the night sky and coincidentally, the celestial obsession which the House of Black was known for. The young wizard was sure that the witch and three boys had made a very strong statement without even saying a word as the now twelve-year-old was escorted to a waiting room by a member of the court staff.

 

The brunette did his best to sit still and calm as he waited. They knew, from what Severus had seen and heard at the school over the last week, that Dumbledore planned to use today’s opportunity to force a vote on his school bill and just not allow anyone else to speak until after. Without doubt he then had every intention of tossing out the Board of Governor’s petition on the premise that the new bill gave him clear authority to do all the things they had complained about. And, as far as he knew, they had no access to the original Hogwarts Charter whose pre-existing rules would cancel out anything drafted by the court. Not to mention the blatant forgery of the Charter copy and his numerous, repeated, violations of his contract as Headmaster.

 

_The old goat probably would have gotten away with it too,_ Harry thought as the wizard in question called the session to order and read off the agenda for the day. _After all, he just needs to give Ollivander the floor as soon as I am finished and since three Most Ancient and Noble members are required to overrule the Chief Warlock or give the floor to another speaker, no one would ever expect it possible to go against him._

 

Harry clasped his hands behind his back as he stood and followed the clerk towards the court chamber. A rush of nerves made his hand shake briefly but he shoved them down ruthlessly as he had been taught. He and the others had been waiting patiently and strategically for this day and he wouldn’t let anyone ruin it for him. Not even himself. Green eyes met grey up in the visitor’s gallery and he took another breath. The contact was only a second long, but it was enough to remind him that he was ready for this. All the adults had agreed that he was fully prepared when he and Draco had been sent to bed the night before, and the two best friends had spent another hour rehearsing the long-winded and circular formality required of him.

 

Once again confident, the Boy-Who-Lived stood before the assembled Wizengamot, suppressing a smile, fully aware he was about to completely disrupt the balance of power, and more than any of them suspected. With that cheerful thought, he took one more deep breath, cast a Sonorus, and began.

 

“My name is Harry James Potter, heir to the Lordship of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, and I come before you today, on this third of August, 1991, three days after my twelfth birthday, to assign my chosen Proxies for those titles that are mine by right of blood and magic.”

 

An air of anticipation filled the court. Even those who were unsure if they would agree with the young heir or his Proxies, were glad to see two Houses brought out of abeyance. There were quite a few, of course, that resented his being there. He was positive the old bastard was furious that his plans to keep the young heir uninformed and powerless had fallen to pieces. All of this only made him anticipate the coming minutes all the more.

 

“As the only son of Lord James Potter and Lady Lily Potter, grandson of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, I assign Lord Lucius Malfoy to act in my stead as Proxy for the House of Potter.” The aristocrat in question stood from his seat and bowed his head in acceptance.

 

“As the only direct descendent of Iolanthe Potter, nee Peverell, granddaughter of Ignotus Peverell, the Lord Peverell – and only direct descendant of King Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther Pendragon – who died custodian of the Lordship of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, I assign Lord Lucius Malfoy as Proxy for the House of Peverell.” The blond nodded again, but did not regain his seat.

 

Dumbledore stood, however, preparing to break the heavy silence in order to declare the votes allowed each House to be officially transferred in his position of Chief Warlock. Most everyone had, within days of it happening, heard the rumors surrounding Harry Potter’s wand and the symbolic link to his famous royal ancestor. Even so, since it had been so long since a Potter chose to take his Seat in the court, it was still a shock to have the connection to the House of Pendragon stated so clearly. It left them all a little disoriented. Because of that, it took a moment for the other members of the court to recognize what was happening.

 

Dumbledore did not suffer that delay. Blue eyes widened behind half-moon glasses, wrinkled face filling with barely suppressed anger and then promptly turning to shock, as the young heir kept talking. Harry was sure that the old man’s shock was mirrored on every face aside from his friends and their parents. Even members of the Malfoy Bloc had, in the interest of secrecy, not been told ahead of time about the additional Seats the famous boy would be claiming.

 

“As the adopted heir and godson of Sirius Black-” a roar of whispers swept through the chamber as they had known it would.

 

There had been much debate about how he should handle the shock, with Lady Longbottom in favor of him graciously allowing everyone to clamber for a while until he was given quiet in which to speak. The Lady Malfoy on the other hand, had been insistent that as an heir to four Lordships he should simply continue speaking, as he was above such pandering. _Everyone will want to hear what he is saying, as soon as they realize he is still doing so, they will quiet in order to prevent missing anything,_ she had said. He had settled on the latter approach, and the elegant witch was proven correct. The other voices cut off abruptly, allowing Harry’s voice to once more reach every ear.

 

“-acknowledged heir to Arcturus Black, who died Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, I assign Lady Narcissa Malfoy nee Black as Proxy for the House of Black.” The silence that was left in the wake of that announcement was as loud as the previous whispers had been but did not drown out what he said next.

 

“As the only direct descendant of Hardwin Potter, eldest son of Linfred of Stinchcombe, known as The Potterer – who was the only descendant of Godric Gryffindor, the only descendant of Sir Gawain of Camelot, son of King Lot of Orkney and Morgause, daughter of Gorlos of Tintagel and Lady Igraine, and sister to King Arthur Pendragon – who died the only rightful claimant to the Lordship of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gryffindor, I assign Lady Augusta Longbottom as Proxy for the House of Gryffindor.”

 

Green eyes had met those of each Proxy in turn as they stood at the announcement of their name but it was the pale blue eyes of the blond witch that he returned to at the end. He had spent much of the last week staring at her whenever they were in the same room. It had been one thing to know himself the temporary ward of Lord Malfoy, but this felt somehow different, stronger. As she was the only Black still living who was not in Azkaban, and he was the heir to the Black title, Narcissa had been deemed his closest living relative and so was named as his permanent guardian.

 

Having this declared legally before he so publically and inarguably placed himself in opposition to Dumbledore had been an important step in their plan. They had been able to push the parchment through with the help of Lord Malfoy’s contact. The judicious use of secrecy charms was also employed in order to prevent said contact from informing anyone about Harry’s connection to the Black title. With this in mind, they had been forced to wait until the last minute to arrange guardianship since such charms – outside of binding magical vows – only lasted up to nine days. Being so officially claimed had been a heady feeling for the young orphan and he took comfort in that feeling now as the Chief Warlock regained his feet.

 

The elderly wizard appeared visibly shaken from the unwelcome surprise and had to clear his throat before he declared the votes allowed the four Houses to be transferred to their assigned Proxies. He cleared it again before ceding the floor to Lord Ollivander to finish presenting his Hogwarts reform bill. Before Ollivander could even begin speaking, another voice filled the courtroom.

 

“As Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy and Proxy to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, I move to overrule the granting of the floor to Lord Ollivander of the Ancient and Noble House of Ollivander.”

 

Another voice echoed his before anyone else could cut in. “As Proxy for the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black I second this motion.”

 

“As Proxy for the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gryffindor, I declare the motion carried and move to grant the floor to the member of our body whom first placed a matter before this court on the third of July to have precedence over he whom presented his case on the seventh of July.” The voices of the two Malfoys seconded the Lady Longbottom and everyone but the blond wizard regained their seat. Eventually. The old man, mouth agape, took a second or two longer to follow suit.

 

Three Most Ancient and Noble members were required to overrule the Chief Warlock, and there had not been three such Houses with Sitting members of the Wizengamot since the time of Henry Potter in the early 1900s. No one currently on the court had ever seen this rule utilized, but they recognized it and its significance immediately.

 

“Today, I, Lord Lucius Malfoy of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy and Proxy to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, and the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, will complete my presentation on behalf of the Hogwarts Board of Governors,” the other Governors, the Lords Greengrass, Macmillan, Shafiq, Bulstrode, Abbot, and Burke, all stood, nodded to indicate they agreed and then regained their seats.

 

The deferential and supportive nods the other Nobles had given the acting Head of the Board of Governors had been expected. What was not, however, expected by the other members of the court, was the way the Lord paused and turned slightly to meet the green eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry, upon completing the assignment of his Proxies, had been escorted back to his private box to join his friends and fellow heirs while the Lady Malfoy had descended from the gallery to take her place on the court. The brunette had not yet taken his seat, however, but stood facing down at the Proxy to two of his Houses. Not a single eye in the large chamber missed the clear nod Harry Potter gave his Proxy, as if granting his permission for the older wizard to continue.

 

Lord Malfoy did not start speaking immediately, but took a moment to return the nod and pivot to face the court once more. This delay allowed many in the courtroom to make the connection between Harry declaring himself the direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor, and the Hogwarts Board. Most had only considered the shocking declaration as it affected the seats and votes on the court. The Houses of the Founders, after all, were granted seven votes each, two more than the Most Ancient and Noble Houses which in turn were allowed two more than the tier below them. Ancient House seats were given two votes each and both Lesser Nobles and the seven members of the Administrative tier were only granted one each.

 

This meant Harry Potter, through his Proxies, was in possession of more votes than any other person on the court. Yet, as a Founder’s Heir, the famous boy was also the only person alive with rights to the Hogwarts Trust. Technically, the Board of Governors now answered, at least in part, to Harry Potter. And if the exchange was any indication, the Head of the Board had every intention of taking his lead from the twelve-year-old. The letter of the law stated that as the Gryffindor Proxy, Lady Longbottom would act in the boy’s stead as concerned the House of Gryffindor, but she looked on without surprise or disapproval. A collective breath was taken by those within the Wizengamot chamber at the realization that Lord Malfoy, and his bloc, stood not _with_ the famous Potter heir, but _behind_ him.

 

Harry could feel hundreds of eyes boring into him from every angle, but resolutely kept his own gaze fixed on the Lord who was finally speaking once more. After several long seconds, the majority of those in the chamber turned their attention to the floor as well.


	5. In the Name of the Board

 

He knew for a fact that the blond was aware of exactly how many eyes were on him, and how rapt their attention was, but the older wizard appeared completely unaware, and more importantly, unconcerned. Lucius Malfoy was an expert at looking like he knew everyone else would simply listen automatically to what he had to say, and moreover, give his words the attention they deserved without his having to ask for it. Harry wondered if he would ever manage to look like that when he spoke, but pushed the errant question to the back of his mind as he focused on the Malfoy Lord standing below.

 

“One month ago, I stood before this august body to present the Board of Governor’s formal petition to permanently remove the Headmaster, whom the Board had suspended in the wake of the decisions by this court and by the ICW. I was told at that time that the copy of the Hogwarts Charter possessed by this court and certified by its Chief Warlock, refuted the existence and extent of oversight intended by the Founders, which were among those actions and lack of actions we, the Hogwarts Governors, put forth as part of our case against the currently suspended Headmaster.”

 

Almost indistinguishable gasps passed through the packed visitor’s gallery and the three lordlings had to suppress smiles and smirks at the sound as green eyes caught the grey gaze on his right just long enough to recognize the interest in them and followed their path to the group of Lords and Ladies that they had noticed wavering in their support of the old man over the last several court sessions. He felt a similar curiosity as he watched the way those Nobles failed to automatically dismiss what they were hearing as the more ardent Dumbledore supporters were clearly doing as Lucius went on.

 

“I renew our position on these accounts and present as evidence, a copy of the original Hogwarts Charter, duly certified by Gringotts, which was presented to the direct heir of Godric Gryffindor. I once again present to this court, our formal Protest regarding violations of the Hogwarts Charter, as well as a request for a formal review of school records and accounts, and our continued insistence that the suspension of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore be made permanent.”

 

As much as he wanted to watch the blond Lord make their case, green eyes could not help but look over at the Chief Warlock. It looked like the suspended Headmaster had decided to maintain an air of benevolent tolerance for the grandstanding of the obviously ill informed and petty Lord campaigning against him. Harry wondered with a suppressed sense of satisfaction and anticipation, how long that act would last alongside the extensive and carefully built arguments against him.

 

“We do not make these protests lightly. One the third of July I was able to begin making my case in support of these requests. I now present for your consideration, further argument that the current administration has failed in its duty to educate and protect our children and the future of Wizarding Britain.”

 

The Potter heir had to acknowledge a reluctant admiration for the old man’s acting ability and wondered if the skill was the result of practice or if part of the elderly wizard actually believed his actions to be in some way just.

 

“Some of you may still ask why I state this so unequivocally. To you I say, what argument could possibly be made that excuses the presence of dangerous artifacts, or such that could create dangerous situations, on school grounds? It is a known fact that this last school year the Philospher’s Stone –which was known by him to be greatly sought by the Dark Lord whom he knew to be still alive – was placed within the school at the discretion of the Headmaster. It is also known that on October 31st of this year, a fully-grown Mountain Troll successfully made it past the school’s wards without problem or alert. In response to this threat to the safety and wellbeing of our children, the Headmaster decided it was best for the students not to be kept in place and protected, but rather sent back to common rooms –two of which were in the last known location of the Troll – without a single adult escort or guard.”

 

For the first time, a murmur rose up ever so softly amongst the ranks of the top two tiers of the court. It had a decidedly angry tone that made the three heirs exchange brief expressions of satisfaction before returning their full attention to the court seats below them. It was not a difficult thing for them to do, as riveting as the speech was, they had all heard it many times in various stages of composition throughout the last year. Watching the reactions of the other Nobles, and even their families in the visitor’s gallery, was becoming far more entertaining for the friends.

 

“Furthermore, these dangers occurred without a word being said by the school administration to the parents of the children who had been, and were being, endangered. We, the Board, believe that the current policy to only inform parents of severe injury or illness is insufficient. All parents should be informed if their child is ill or hurt, or placed in danger while at Hogwarts. Floo calls should be allowed between a child and their parent or guardian at either’s request.”

 

It was impossible to see from his angle, but Harry knew that his mentor planned to meet the gaze of several other Hogwarts parents who sat on the Wizengamot and were impartial or less supportive of the Chief Warlock. The young wizard was sure that even without eye contact, the argument sounded far too strong for it to be completely ignored.

 

“Surely it must be acknowledged that an owl would take too long if a true problem existed. And the vicious attack on a first-year student by a professor, which occurred at the end of the school term, has no doubt proven that appropriate communication between the administration and the parents can not be currently relied upon. I myself was only made aware of this heinous event by my eleven-year-old son and heir, who was among two dozen students present at the attack. How many parents, upon hearing from their children that this horrible thing occurred, owled the Headmaster in concern and were rebuffed or ignored? Every Magical here today can attest to reading the dismissive and unconcerned comment which the Headmaster himself gave the Daily Prophet reporter who inquired about the rumors of what occurred in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.”

 

Given the content of the papers in the aftermath of the now infamous DADA Duel, it was hardly surprising the number of nods that were exchanged by more than half the Seated Lords and Ladies of the court. But it was still more than satisfying to watch. Though the boys could all have done without the number of people who turned to look at them with expressions that varied from hunger, to respect, to mistrust. The friends were more than happy that the presentation below soon regained the wandering attention.

 

“The Board of Governors has come before this court many times to say that Hogwarts was not being served adequately by its Headmaster. And we say again, now more than ever before, that Albus Dumbledore has proven to make poor judgments in his running of the school, judgments that have placed students in danger. He has made judgments that have been inarguably negligent and in violation of basic international safety requirements. The esteemed ICW has already officially determined Mr. Dumbledore to have created an unsafe environment at Hogwarts. He was found to have failed to follow even the most basic of international school safety standards, acted against his oath of service as Headmaster, and violated international banking regulations. These are not the actions of a person who can be trusted with our children.”

 

Another round of nods and somewhat quiet agreement drifted through the court, though it was notably louder in the audience and accompanied by several more glances in Harry Potter’s direction. No doubt they were recalling the interview he had given and the series of articles that had followed. The brunette shifted uncomfortably in his seat, prompting his best friend to give his knee a brief squeeze behind the short front wall of the private box. At the feel of the other boy’s hand, the Potter heir stilled his movements and refocused on what was being said.

 

“He is not the type of person who can be trusted with the running of one of the most prominent magical schools in the world. He has shown not to respect those individuals and positions, which our Founders trusted to provide necessary oversight of the position of Headmaster, and has blatantly acted against such oversight in using his position as Chief Warlock to prevent the presentation of this case against him. Certainly, he had no respect for our laws when he broke them in order to kidnap and willfully endanger the baby to whom we owe the defeat of Voldemort.”

 

Various gasps and cries echoed around the chamber, though it was hard to tell if they were in response to the use of the Dark Lord’s name or the first use of such direct language in describing his crimes. Even when the Wizengamot itself Censured him, they had said Harry had been ‘kept from his legal guardian’ and ‘unlawfully placed’ with the Dursleys. Never had anyone used the word kidnap, though as far as Harry was concerned that was the only truly accurate term. The Lord of the House of Malfoy did not pause at the exclamations, but simply continued to calmly lay out the case against the renowned Albus Dumbledore.

 

“Hogwarts should be a safe environment in which our children can learn, yet under Mr. Dumbledore’s leadership, the school is not safe, and it does not provide the education our sons and daughters deserve. It has been nearly a decade or more since the Defense Against the Dark Arts post has been held by someone remotely qualified for the position. We have all heard the rumors that the post can not be held for more than a year due to a curse left upon it, but there is no true way to know the reason for the trouble the current administration has had maintaining a Defense Professor as it has never once allowed those most qualified to examine the situation or evaluate the school wards as required by British Magical Regulations.”

 

A warm feeling settled in the famous boy’s stomach as he watched the barely twinkling eyes narrow slightly behind half-moon glasses as the old man struggled to remain blank-faced. The evidence of anger – and what should have been shame, but was probably a cross between resentment and offended pride – was extremely rewarding. The slightly smug look on Draco’s face and the barely suppressed grin on Neville’s told him that his friends were equally pleased to see the Chief Warlock’s indulgent act start to crumble, even just slightly.

 

It would have been even more satisfying, of course, to see some tiny measure of guilt or even regret to show that the manipulative wizard in some way felt sorry for what he had done, the pain he had caused. Even if it were only because he had gotten caught for it. But Harry doubted Albus Dumbledore was even capable of being embarrassed by the case against him, let alone anything else. Even so, the Potter heir was resolved to enjoy what little pain he could cause his kidnapper and tuned back into Lord Malfoy’s words.

 

“The former Supreme Mugwump of the ICW has taken over many roles that were not his by any rights, the least of which being ineffectually maintaining the vast school ward network on his own. He has also commandeered the task of the evaluations meant to be given by an official from the Wizarding Examinations Authority. Such assessments are meant to be given to each teacher yearly for their first five years at the school and every three years thereafter. This requirement is listed clearly in Ministry regulations. The Founders themselves first established the need for such, as well as the fact that every professor at Hogwarts should possess an O in the NEWT of the subject they are teaching. The lack of this is public record. The NEWT results of all current professors only match this prerequisite in three cases.”

 

Heedlessly, the clear recollection of a comment made by his new guardian drifted through the young brunette’s mind. They had all been reviewing plans and tactics yet again over tea when the subject of the professors’ qualifications came up. Narcissa had made an uncharacteristically rude noise as she took a dainty sip of tea. “Perhaps we should simply have put someone in a teaching position who holds no NEWTs at all. Maybe someone with not even an OWL in their subject and see how they liked it. Maybe then enough parents would have complained and we could have gotten something changed by now.”

 

At that point, their dour morning visitor had made a very characteristic sneer and replied. “The parents would have to be smart enough to notice it themselves. They were educated under the infallible old coot too, after all. Unless they possessed the money and the dedication to arrange extra tutoring outside of school and after graduation they likely would not know enough to tell the difference between a competent professor and a useless toad.”

 

It was hard to reconcile the sound the eldest blond had made after stating, “perhaps that is his intention,” with the poised aristocrat currently holding the attention of every Magical in the cavernous chamber.

 

“There is no record at all in the Ministry files of an official evaluation being conducted for a single professor in the last twenty years. Not even a copy of whatever assessment that was supposedly given by the Headmaster is included in the files, simply a statement by Albus Dumbledore that he had done so. At what point was it decided that the rules and regulations set down by our government, and our illustrious Founders, should no longer apply to Mr. Dumbledore? At what point was our children’s education sacrificed for the sake of one man’s desire for control?” Some slight measure of the frustration he had been feeling from years of attempting to address this and other issues finally began to color the Lord Malfoy’s calm voice.

 

“I stand before this honorable court and say that point should never come. It is time to do the right thing for our children. Albus Dumbledore is not what is best for them. The current administration has proven itself, too many times, to be unsuitable for the task of running our school. On behalf of the Hogwarts Board of Governors I appeal to every Magical here: do what is best for our children. Honor and protect their future and the future of Wizarding Britain.”

 

Another trickle of emotion entered the Lord’s voice as he pleaded with the silent members of the Wizengamot. “Remove Albus Dumbledore from the position of Headmaster. Grant us a full and honest review of the original Hogwarts Charter so that our great institution can be reshaped as the Founders had intended. Grant a thorough, formal, examination of the records and accounts of the school so that we may gain a full and accurate image of how best to right the many wrongs that have been done to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school Founded by four of the greatest witches and wizards in our country’s history is not what it once was, but it can be again. You can make it so.”

 

The entreaty to Wizarding Britain’s Nobles resounded through the ranks of the court and into the hushed audience. Even knowing it was coming, the lordlings found it almost startling when a new voice rang out, even more passionate than Lord Malfoy’s. “My family has sacrificed in the name of this country. My son and daughter-in-law suffer every day for their service as Aurors during the Blood War. The House of Longbottom has given enough. I will not allow my grandson’s future to suffer further. The heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom will not be returning to Hogwarts for his second year unless something is done here today.”

 

The cultured tones were calm but confident when the Head of the Board of Governors responded. “I must agree with Lady Longbottom. I cannot trust my only son and heir to be safe and properly educated in Hogwarts as it stands now. I state unequivocally that the next Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy will be removed from Hogwarts if the Board of Governors is ignored yet again.”

 

The blond’s Lady wife rose elegantly to stand before the Black Seat. “Several days ago, I became the permanent legal guardian of the heir to my father’s Most Ancient and Noble House. I believe every Magical here can agree that it is a truly shameful thing for the only Founders’ Heir alive today to worry for his safety and education while in the building that houses his great legacy as the heir to Godric Gryffindor. Yet I assure you, Harry Potter will not step foot again within Hogwarts grounds while it remains under the leadership of Albus Dumbledore. The school his ancestor helped to create may not be willing to guard the well being of the child who saved this country from You-Know-Who twice in his first eleven years, but I most certainly am.”

 

Each boy had tensed as their respective parent or guardian had spoken, but all three heirs presented a calm and confident face to the many eyes turned on them. Draco watched out of the corner of his eye as his best friend raised his chin a little defiantly and stared down the no longer twinkling gaze that met and held his. The young blond felt a rush of pride that the boy who had appeared in his maze, hesitant, fearful, and hurt, was now showing such poise in silently confronting the man that had been responsible for many of the horrible things that had happened to him.

 

The silence that followed the words of the Black Proxy was heavy in the expansive room and was not broken for several long seconds. Finally, Minister Fudge took his feet. The youngest blond could only assume that he was trying to lead the tide that looked sure to rise against the wizard who had held such power and influence for so many decades. Certainly, there was a pompous air about the wizard’s words as he spoke, but Draco had to admit that such a thing had never really been lacking from the Minister before.

 

“As the Minister for Magic, I hereby call for a vote on the Hogwarts Board of Governor’s Protest against the currently suspended Headmaster Dumbledore and petition for said Headmaster’s permanent removal from the post.”

 

The call was answered with an overwhelming but not unanimous agreement. If Fudge was hoping to seize some of the Chief Warlock’s power for himself, the wizard would be quite disappointed, the Malfoy heir thought as he watched his father graciously accept the court’s decision on behalf of the Board. Lord Lucius Malfoy gave not the slightest hint of a reaction to the blatant jockeying for the limelight amongst the court’s administrative tier as the Head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority rushed to be the one to call for the vote on the requested review of the school.

 

Within minutes, the Board was granted its request to place the school, its internal records and all of its accounts, under official review so an evaluation could be made and appropriate changes proposed. The investigation into possible Charter violations was similarly approved by over two thirds of the court. Then, for the second time, Harry, Draco, and the others were granted the extremely satisfying sight and sound of Albus Dumbledore pronouncing sentence against himself.

 

“As the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, I declare Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore to be officially and permanently removed from his post as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A formal evaluation of the state and management of Hogwarts, its administration, records, and financial accounts is hereby ordered. Suspected violations to the Founders’ Charter are likewise to be investigated by order of the Wizengamot. This court asserts that interim Headmaster Flitwick will continue to discharge the duties of Headmaster until the aforementioned review is conducted and its findings presented to this court for its official decision.”

 

Harry Potter ruthlessly suppressed the urge to whoop in victory as the old man forced out the words of the court’s verdict. He continued to suppress the manic grin that wanted to envelope his face as he gripped his friends’ hands on either side of him in the private box. The sheer force with which Draco’s fingers clasped his belayed the blond’s excitement and threatened to overwhelm his calm façade. When they watched the Chief Warlock dismiss the court, a hint of a smirk finally broke free at the sight of a noticeable tremor in the aged hand as Dumbledore tapped his wand on his podium.

 

The excitement and satisfaction the boy-hero had felt in that moment did not diminish overnight, but by the next morning it had been joined by a prominent feeling of anxiety. The Hogwarts Board had not wasted any time in arranging a meeting with the new Headmaster and the Heads of Houses at the school in order to begin the review process.

 

The first order of business was to map out exactly what the review would be looking at and the specific short-term and long-term goals of the investigation, and any changes that would follow. Now that they had the chance to make needed improvements in all aspects of the school, including course requirements and administrative regulations, no one planned to squander the opportunity to improve Hogwarts and the education it provided. According to Lord Malfoy, that included establishing the presence and authority of the only living Founders’ Heir. The blond wizard had reminded Harry before he’d left the Manor that the tone of his future interactions with the school administration would be set by his attitude and behavior today.

 

The brunette hadn’t needed help remembering how important this meeting would be, not only for the review, but for the relationship that would form between the Gryffindor heir and the school Godric had helped create. Hearing it again had only caused him to feel more nervous, though he was sure that had not been Lucius’ intention. Even so, the young wizard hadn’t been able to help the spike in his heart rate as he watched his mentor Apparate away. Thankfully, there had been another ten minutes before he was due to leave with Lady Longbottom, so he had some time to at least try and calm down before departing for the school.

 

He had spent every one of those minutes listening to his friends tell him that he would do fine, that he was prepared for this, that he knew what to say and how to say it, and stepping into the meeting room wouldn’t change any of those things. Harry was much less sure of that than Draco and Neville seemed to be, however. He was pretty sure that coming face to face with the entire Board and the four professors he had just spent a year seeing as authority figures was more than capable of having exactly that effect on him. Treating Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall – or even Snape – as if they should see _him_ as their superior was not something he was all that comfortable with doing. He did have to be in most of their classes in a few months after all.

 

Draco was of a slightly different opinion and had made his view very clear before he’d allowed his best friend to leave the Manor. “They are not your professors when they are in that room, Harry. In a classroom, yes, but not there. When you are meeting with them as the heir to the House of Gryffindor, they have to listen to _you_ , and treat you with all the respect and deference of your future titles. They work in _your_ school, Heir Gryffindor, and don’t let them forget that.”

 

He knew the taller boy was correct, of course. He usually was when it came to matters of protocol. And his first and best friend was always the one best able to talk him down when he was on the verge of a panic attack or becoming lost in his doubts. Yet, it was Neville’s words that he repeated to himself as he and Augusta stepped through the gates and onto Hogwarts grounds.

 

“You know every word of the original Charter, you know exactly what needs to change to bring the school back to what the Founders had intended. You just have to be calm, confident, and decisive when you say it. And if they are rude or don’t listen, Lord Malfoy and my grandmum will take care of it. He is the Head of the Board which acts on behalf of the Founders’ Trust, and she is your Proxy for the House of Gryffindor. It’s their jobs to handle that stuff. Let them.”

 

_Just be calm, confident, and decisive_ , he repeated several times in his mind as the two made their way to the room that had been prepared for this meeting. They paused in the hallway just outside the door. After one last repetition and a few deep breaths, Harry nodded at his friend’s grandmother and they stepped through the door together.

 

Green eyes swept the room before he even entered it completely in order to make sure he had a chance to observe those gathered inside before they noticed he was there. He looked to his mentor first, then the other Board members, putting the correct name to each as he took in the satisfied and almost eager air that surrounded the six Lords. _Greengrass, Bulstrode, Macmillan, Shafiq, Abbott, and Burke_ he reminded himself. They were certainly all looking forward to this meeting, or at least the review it would initiate.

 

Next he looked to the school staff. Severus looked as bored and annoyed as he had expected his Head of House and summer tutor to be. Sprout and Flitwick appeared tired and stressed but not necessarily unhappy. They were clearly uncertain but not really worried, he would guess. Maybe they were resigned to the situation, or even okay with it, even if they were not sure what was in store. The thought made the Potter heir wonder what they had really thought of Dumbledore and the way things had been done under his rule.

 

The Deputy Headmistress on the other hand, seemed excessively cross and more than a little offended by the whole situation and everyone around her. That impression did not waver as the meeting got underway. Everything that was said seemed to make her more upset. The summation of the Wizengamot’s ruling and the scope of the review that had been authorized by the court left the witch indignant, most likely on behalf of the former Headmaster. From where he was sitting between the Lady Longbottom and Lord Malfoy he could clearly see the various expressions of derision, anger, and pique which crossed her face during the discussion.

 

He wasn’t the only one to notice the offended way she reacted to the mention of Flitwick becoming the new Headmaster. Based on what he had heard of her, Harry could only assume that the Gryffindor Head of House was quite insulted by being passed over for the position. They had expected that, however, and the young brunette did his best to ignore the huff or tsk or sour face with which she punctuated much of the first twenty minutes of the meeting. The twelve-year-old wasn’t the least bit regretful for making the recommendation he had. No matter how many good things he heard about Minerva McGonagall, nothing could make him forget that she had helped deliver him into the Dursleys’ care.

 

Instead of focusing on the by-play between the Deputy Headmistress and the Board, the young wizard let his gaze drift subtly over the room. It was very nicely appointed and especially fitting for the occasion. He would have liked to be sitting facing the vast fireplace, as his earlier glimpse had shown the stone around it to be intricately carved and featuring a truly beautiful school crest. Still, the warmth from the fire on his back was welcome all the same. Besides, the detailed wood paneling and large portraits of the Founders gave him plenty to look at. The stillness of the figures, however, was somewhat off-putting for the boy.

 

He made a mental note to look at them more closely before he left, but didn’t have time to contemplate the mystery as his attention snapped back to the people around him at the sound of his name. He spared a second to wish his best friend were beside him when every eye in the room seemed to pin him to his seat. Then he nodded politely at the Head of the Board to acknowledge the introduction and returned each gaze one by one. The others in the room hardly needed to be told his name, but Lord Malfoy had told him the night before that it would help establish his position and right to be there if he were formally introduced as the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gryffindor.

 

He had thought long and hard about what he wanted to say, the points he wanted to make and the impression he needed to leave everyone with in order to accomplish his goals. Some of those discussions had included his mentor or other adults, even the dour Potions Master, and some had included only Draco. One or two had included no one but the large stained-glass image of his famous ancestor. It was agreed by all that he would have to show maturity beyond his years and a thorough awareness of his role and responsibilities as the Gryffindor heir, as well as an extensive knowledge of the school and its Charter. Green eyes shifted briefly to the large painting of Godric on the wall several paces away from him. Then he began to speak.

 

“I will not sit here and try to act like I am not satisfied with Mr. Dumbledore’s removal from this school, I believe it is only to this institution’s benefit.” In the interest of not alienating the staff, he refrained from saying that he felt the old man to be inappropriate and completely unsuited to the honor of running the famous school. He had been told plainly, if regrettably, by Severus that pointing out that the former Headmaster was inadequate as a wizard and an educator would not be in his best interest.

 

Therefore the twelve-year-old focused on the future of the school rather than its past, which was thankfully where Dumbledore resided. “I wish to make clear, however, that this review is not a fault-finding expedition. Our goals, as Lord Malfoy has stated, are to investigate the state of this school, its financial straights, its overall safety, and its ability to provide a full, quality education to all of its students. Most of all, we are here to ensure that Hogwarts once again meets the expectations of its illustrious Founders.”

 

He held his hands clasped together on the table in front of him in order to keep from fidgeting as the boy-hero forced his voice and gaze to remain level and calm. “We can all agree that these admirable witches and wizards established a school they, and we, can be proud of. When we are finished with this endeavor I expect us to know every aspect of our school that has deviated from its original design and a clear plan for how we will return it to its Founding glory. As the only Founders’ Heir alive today, it is my duty to ensure that if any of the Hogwarts Four were to step foot inside these walls that they would recognize it as the Hogwarts they themselves built. This process must understandably start with a comparison of all aspects of the Founders’ Charter with the current running of this school.”

 

The implication that Hogwarts had not been run properly before, though hardly the first given, seemed to grossly offend the Deputy Headmistress who opened her mouth to respond in some way. Before she could do so, the Proxy for the House of Gryffindor fixed her with a glare that would rival any the pinched Head of House had given a misbehaving student. The two formidable witches locked gazes for a moment in silence before the professor looked away with a huff.

 

Ignoring the staring contest on his right, Harry continued speaking. “As Hogwarts is first and foremost an educational institution, I believe this process should begin with a thorough evaluation of all course content and standards, and the teaching qualifications of every staff member.” Minerva McGonagall bristled noticeably in her seat and he was sure she was about to launch into a brisk defense of herself and the other professors. The Second-Time-Savior did not give her a chance as he started to list the things he knew to be altered from the original standards and policies outlined in the Charter.

 

The almost approving mien of his Head of House and the various raised eye-brows and expressions of surprise amongst the Board members left Harry at least somewhat confident that he had shown his understanding of the school and the Charter it was supposed to be run by. “Our second priority, I think we can agree, should be the safety of everyone, student and staff alike. This means arranging a complete inspection and update of the castle wards, as well as those on the greenhouses, Quidditch pitch, and the grounds themselves.”

 

The relief that flashed across the new Headmaster’s face told Harry and the Board how much such a thing was needed. As a half-goblin, Flitwick was certainly the most sensitive of the staff to the wards. If Snape’s subtle observations over the last few years were anything to go by, Filius had been having concerns about the school wards for quite some time and was repeatedly rebuffed by the twinkling coot. Of course, safety was not the only reason that the goblin warders would be brought in post haste. The process of overhauling the wards would include the collection of magical signatures on the central ward stone beneath the castle, even those of the initial casters- the Founders themselves.

 

This would be invaluable to help authenticate the original copy of the Hogwarts Charter, which had come from the previously sealed Gryffindor vault. There was little if any doubt that they would need such a thing at the upcoming court session as Albus Dumbledore was guaranteed to challenge the one they had provided the court. Especially since it would be used to prove many of his crimes against the school and his contract as Headmaster.

 

“Those are quite sound priorities, Mr. Potter. Can we all agree that educational standards and wards should be our first tasks in this review?” The stern, confidant tone used by the Longbottom Regent nearly dared anyone at the table to challenge this course of action. It seemed effective, in that McGonagall was the only one who looked to be in disagreement, though a glare from the diminutive Headmaster prevented any verbal protest. Harry had to look quickly away to keep from laughing at the sight and couldn’t wait to describe it in detail for his friends.

 

“Very well,” stated the dowager with a sharp nod. “I say we cover safety protocols third. I have seen the applicable section in the original Charter, and insist that the safety and shield spells crafted and installed by Rowena Ravenclaw be put back up before September.”

 

It was telling that every teacher there appeared surprised and confused. Augusta elaborated with a clipped recitation just a few of the magical means that had once protected Hogwarts and her students. Such as the spells that were meant to prevent anyone unauthorized from entering the Forbidden Forrest or any animals therein from entering the rest of the grounds. And the shield spells intended to deploy around the edges of the tables in the potions classroom to prevent the contents of exploded cauldrons from coming in contact with students. There were many such safety features that had been used throughout the castle and even in the greenhouses and the area designated for Care of Magical Creatures, which had eroded or fallen entirely due to neglect and improper maintenance.

 

The glower on the Scotswoman’s face gave Harry the impression that she was rather put out at not being able to argue that point. Even she had complained once, according to Severus, about the lack of weather wards around the Quidditch pitch when two of her second-years had collided with each other during a game held in heavy rain and fog. The smug Slytherin had relayed the argument between the two Gryffindor staff members. _This is a school, not a professional league, Albus, the whole game should be declared void and another held in better conditions if the proper conditions can not be ensured_ , the witch had said. That she never complained about safety conditions when her team won was apparently immaterial.

 

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the memory, Harry focused on Lord Greengrass as he spoke up with what he felt should be the next matter dealt with. “The inspection of the school’s financial records and accounts will be extensive and time consuming, it would be best if that is begun fairly early in the process or we will not be able to complete it with everything else.”

 

As the Board agreed on the timetable needed for the task, green eyes strayed to his Charms professor, where the boy was rather impressed with the lack of expression. He knew, from what Lord Malfoy’s contact at the bank had been able to glean, that the half-goblin had more than once caught the edge of the animosity between the Horde and Headmaster on the issue of Hogwarts’ accounts. He had to assume that with his unique perspective, the small professor would equally want, and dread, the process that was to come.

 

Lord Abbot was the next to make a suggestion in a rather pompous voice. “We mustn’t forget to include the scholarship account. There must be a complete review of how the funds are allotted and distributed amongst students. I saw in the copy of the Charter supplied yesterday that there is a clear list of requirements that should be used to determine who receives such funds. These things can not just be decided at the whim of a single person.”

 

The rather vehement statement was a surprise to absolutely no one who knew the Patriarch of the Abbott family. He had taken in his second cousin’s daughter Hannah when her parents had been killed a decade before. The young witch should have been given a scholarship when she started that year, but Dumbledore had informed him in August that he would not be awarding the money to her. As a result, the elderly Lord had been forced to pay himself and been very annoyed about it. The House of Abbott may have been Ancient, but it was hardly rich, and the expense had been a strain on the family.

 

Discussion of financial matters continued for several minutes, eventually devolving momentarily into a short exchange of less than polite words between Lord Burke and Professor McGonagall about whether the previous administration had been geared against Pure-bloods. Pomona Sprout managed to somewhat divert the conversation onto things which they all thought would make the school more financially and academically balanced for all students. Albrecht Burke was undeterred and immediately stated that he felt that summer sessions or extra tutoring should be made available to struggling students and that in August they be allowed a chance to retake the previous year-end exams.

 

Belinda Burke, Albercht’s niece, was in her third year and it was not a secret among the staff or her family that she would likely end up having to re-take her fourth year under the current policies. With the reputation of the less than reputable business he had inherited and passed to his brother for management, even the Lord’s legitimate enterprise was often subject to suspicion. It made it difficult for the House of Burke to regain its financial footing even a decade after the war and the three branches of the family were burning through their ancestral accounts at an alarming speed. Without the means to hire a private tutor over the summer it wasn’t even possible to try and get her caught up so she could better manage her fourth year classes.

 

The professors present seemed to have a mixed reaction. They had to know such a thing was needed and would help during the school year. Yet, there was a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. The new Headmaster seemed to know exactly what the problem was and a hesitant question quickly made it clear that the teachers were not keen on the idea of staying at the castle during the summer. Having a vague idea of the time it took to prepare lesson plans and whatever else they would normally do between terms, not to mention the need for time off, Harry readily agreed that a summer program would need some thought.

 

To the surprise of every staff member aside form Snape, Lord Malfoy proposed that they look into additional compensation or even summer staff instead. The aristocrat glanced to the twelve-year-old as if he were deferring to the Gryffindor heir for approval. The suggestion, his willingness to listen to their opinion, and the Lord’s seeming placement of Harry Potter’s opinion above his own, seemed to give Flitwick and Pomona pause, after which they regarded the Board and it’s Head a little more warmly. McGonagall of course, just looked suspicious, as if she thought the exchange to be rehearsed. The witch’s gimlet eye followed the conversation as it picked back up.

 

“Advanced students are just as marginalized as those who are behind their fellows, and there are not any programs to aid either group. I have three in my House who distract their classmates either out of boredom or frustration. Mayhap we could consider a few advanced classes as well as some remedial courses and tutoring,” ventured the Herbology professor.

 

The soon-to-be-former Charms professor nodded enthusiastically even as the other witch made a negative sound in the back of her throat and insisted that in _her_ House, the more advanced students routinely helped those who were struggling. Before Sprout could respond, Harry broke in calmly.

 

“I agree that it would be best for everyone if students who were behind were to have the option of receiving extra tuition from professionals. The advanced students would then have time and freedom to devote to their own studies. Perhaps a revision period once a week for each year group and a joint study hall for the advanced individuals to speak with an adult and each other about topics not covered in their normal classes? The latter could be a combination of two or even three years depending on how many could benefit, though perhaps a separate one for NEWT students.”

 

Three out of four professors seemed to regard the idea positively, though with varying degrees of enthusiasm. The Board members all appeared contemplative. The young wizard knew Snape’s view on the subject even if he did not outwardly respond. It had been only the year before when he had come to tutor the boys at the Manor after the completion of exams that he had grumbled excessively about the problem. The dour man had memorably groused that if one of the precious Gryffs failed and had to repeat a class someone might care, but when it was a puff or snake no one even noticed other than to complain about their performance.

 

Those who knew Lord Greengrass were unsurprised when he was the one who brought up the fiscal side of the idea. Lord Peneus Greengrass had been happily in charge of the finances for his family’s various companies since he was fresh out of Hogwarts. “As long as there is room in the school’s operating budget I see no reason to discard the notion. However, we must keep in mind that if we are to return to the course list devised by the Founders we will be adding more than one class, and therefore, more than one additional professor to the staff already. We should really wait and see what staffing changes will need to occur and how another individual for such things would fit in.”

 

After an audible exchange between Sprout and Flitwick as to the ways classroom behavior might improve if they were able to implement tutoring and additional intellectual stimulation, it was agreed that the idea would be reconsidered later in the review process. The mention of classroom order prompted the Potions Master to speak for the first time. “Any real change of behavior would have to start with the choice of House pairings. Attempting to control irreverent and hormonal adolescents is hard enough without adding petty squabbles.”

 

“That will be addressed next year, Severus. I already have the forms ready for each professor to request the House divisions that would work best for each class.”

 

Snape and Sprout were both united in their relief at the new Headmaster’s words. Potions had a notorious potential for danger, especially with the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and Herbology could be dangerous as well, depending on the season and plants that were being studied. Yet despite repeated entreaties by both professors, no other arrangement of Houses was ever made. The idea that they would be able to have some control over such a thing was noticeably reassuring to them.

 

On that note, the discussions continued in a somewhat more relaxed fashion. Excepting the Transfiguration professor, of course. A house elf had been called to supply tea and sandwiches by the time they turned their attention to the question of apprenticeship. As things stood, there were no allowances or preparation for apprenticeships unless with an existing professor after graduation. Since several of the subjects in which students would be required to study under a Master after graduation had been removed from the curriculum, the overall number of apprenticeships formed by Hogwarts students and graduates had steadily declined over the last several decades. This had not had a positive impact on the British employment in those fields.

 

When Lord Macmillan read the numbers from several international Mastery publications even the Scotswoman seemed taken aback by the decline. Lord Fitzwilliam Macmillan was almost put-out by the response. As much as he agreed that it was an issue that needed to be addressed, he appeared somewhat annoyed that others would enjoy the benefits of a program he had wanted as a student. His lifelong interest in Alchemy had led to great disappointment in his later years at the school as he had been told that the elective would not be offered during his tenure there because there was insufficient demand for the class.

 

When the young Macmillan heir had approached Dumbledore – the only person in the castle with the requisite Mastery – if he could apprentice with him in the subject he was told that the Headmaster was too busy to do so. Even so, the notion of expanding apprenticeship preparation programs was the first decision made in the meeting that was unanimous. It was also the last. Several prickly matters came and went until the final one of the day was presented by the youngest wizard in the room.

 

“I believe we have made enough progress on mapping out the coming review. We should be able to begin the first two or three items tomorrow, don’t you think?” The various members of the Board who had been assigned to oversee those particular investigations all answered in the affirmative. Harry nodded, then turned to meet the gaze of his Charms professor. “Then the only thing left for today is to address the immediate staffing concerns. Headmaster, do you have any candidates for the Charms or Defense positions?”

 

After several minutes of back and forth between Flitwick and the Board, a Charms Master from Dorsett was chosen and the DADA had been whittled down from three to two. The clear frontrunner, despite the opinion of some members of the Board, was Amelia Bones. The Auror had suddenly tendered her resignation as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement only the week before. Apparently with the Dark Lord clearly dead and many of those suspected to be his former supporters now rallying around the Boy-Who-Lived, the woman had decided to consider her family avenged and devote her time to the niece she was raising.

 

Susan Bones had been a first-year Hufflepuff and therefore had been in the classroom with their class when the DADA duel took place. Harry wondered absently if Susan’s proximity to the possessed Quirrell during the attack, or Dumbledore’s dismissal of the severity of the event, had played a role in the former DMLE Head’s desire to be with her niece at the school. Whatever the reason, the witch had been more than receptive to the initial inquiries.

 

Lucius had a hard time arguing against her, as the main complaint was her dogged pursuit of him and some other Board members as possible Death Eaters. Their main objective when compiling the list of suggested candidates they had supplied was the acquisition of a competent and knowledgeable defense expert that would not be easily led if the old man were to have retained his position. The deciding factor on including her, against his reservations, had been the blond’s belief that if they had not managed to get Dumbledore fired, he might have hesitated to get rid of the professor hired during his suspension for no other reason than she had been such a large and influential figure in the DMLE and the Ministry in general.

 

As much as he and the Board had hoped she would not make the final cut, she had and now they needed to deal with the consequences. Which appeared imminent. Flitwick was especially found of the idea because, as a former Ravenclaw, she would be able to take over for him as Head of House as well, something none of the other current staff could do. The cheerful little wizard was practically bouncing in his seat as he informed the group that Madame Bones would be coming to the school that coming Tuesday for a final interview and discussion on what type of syllabus she might use.

 

Harry could hardly miss the sour and disappointed looks on a few of the Lords’ faces. He met their eyes to acknowledge their opinion and then turned resolutely back to the new Headmaster. The young brunette wanted to earn the respect of the Board, but his role as a Founders’ Heir was first and foremost to ensure that his ancestor’s legacy was honored and that the school was the best it could be. That included a quality Defense instructor, whatever his mentor’s personal opinion of her was. Even Lord Malfoy admitted she was a talented Auror and a fair-minded witch.

 

“Perhaps,” the boy said with a small note of amusement, “we should wait to finalize that until after the goblin warders have taken care of any holes in the wards or malevolent magics affecting the castle?”

 

Flitwick giggled at the reference to the curse on the DADA position and nodded to the young wizard. Harry and the half-goblin were perhaps the most satisfied with the arrangement, but no one spoke out against such a strong candidate. The twelve-year-old could see Lord Burke arch a brow at Lord Malfoy out of the corner of his eye, but the blond seemed to silently resolve the unvoiced protest with a sharp look and a deferential nod to the Founders’ Heir beside him. The exchange was noticed by more than just Harry and it gave several people in the room something to think about as far as the dynamic between the school, the Board, and the heir to the House of Gryffindor was concerned. When the meeting came to an end a few minutes later, the brunette was sure that they would indeed be giving it some thought.

 

The Deputy Headmistress was the first to leave the room, striding out resolutely the moment the meeting came to a close. It was several minutes before the others began to filter out behind her. With his mentor speaking quietly to Lord Bulstrode, and Lady Longbottom in the middle of what sounded like a quick gossip with Professor Sprout, Harry gave in to his curiosity and wandered over to the large portrait of his famous ancestor.

 

The burly wizard was rather intimidating despite the jovial grin frozen on his face. _Why are they all still_? he wondered. In his years at the Manor and then a year at the school, he was quite accustomed to moving portraits, and seeing the images of the Founders so different reminded him eerily of Muggle pictures.

 

The jade pools trailed over the entire painting and landed on the gilded frame, at the bottom of which was a plaque bearing the name _Godric Gryffindor, descendant of Tintagel’s Lady Igraine: Mother of Arthur Pendragon._ Without thinking, the brunette brushed his fingers across the words. The hand fell to his side an instant later when a sound from above him drew every eye in the room. Within the frame, the legendary wizard began to move with a grunt.

 

“Well, sirrah, what took thou so bloody long?”


	6. To Look is To Find

Three days after the Board meeting at Hogwarts, the hint of a smug smile still lingered on the faces of both Malfoy wizards as the family made its way into the eleventh session of the Summer Court Season. The father had been somewhat more successful at hiding it than the son, but both had spent the past few days reveling in the shock and awe that had followed the unprecedented awakening of Godric Gryffindor’s master portrait.

 

Apparently, the room had been chosen for their meeting because of the fact that the Founders’ master portraits had always been there. No one had known at the time that the reason the portraits had been hung in the room originally was because it had been the official meeting room used by the Founders and the original Hogwarts Board of Governors. Harry and the others had enjoyed the irony, but they had enjoyed the idea of Minerva McGonagall’s reaction to Godric’s awakening even more.

 

According to Flitwick, every Headmaster that had served since the last portrait went to sleep in the twelfth century, had tried to reactivate them. As had every Head of House. McGonagall had been a bit more dogged than her predecessors and had attempted every spell, charm, and counter-curse she knew, and then researched more trying to wake the master portrait of Godric and thus wake the other be-spelled images of the famous wizard as well. Including the one that hung in her office. That it had finally been accomplished by the boy who had helped oust Dumbledore was a fact the Malfoys – and Harry – would have paid money to watch her learn.

 

Maybe, the young brunette thought, he would visit the image of his ancestor when he returned to school and ask the man to tell him how the witch had responded when she had found out. He had a feeling it would be a very amusing tale. The court session that was about to begin also had the potential to be amusing, even if they had to hide that enjoyment while everyone was watching. Perhaps he and Draco could borrow Lord Malfoy’s Pensieve again when they got home? The idea was a pleasant one that helped his neutral mask stay in place as the elder blondes parted ways with them at the doors.

 

Both boys made an effort to copy the serious mien that overtook the adults’ faces as they went to take their seats with the court while the Potter and Malfoy heirs joined Neville in their private box in the visitors’ gallery. It was the first Wizengamot sitting since the old man had official lost his position at Hogwarts and none of them were fool enough to think he wouldn’t try to fight back in some way. That fight began as soon as the Chief Warlock called the session to order. Like he so often did, Dumbledore armed himself with the pretense of grandfatherly concern as he attacked indirectly in order to hide his own self-serving manipulations.

 

“Before we begin our session today I feel we must revisit a matter from our previous session. On the third of August, Proxies were assigned for the lost Houses of Black and Gryffindor. Investigation into the records for these esteemed Houses has raised a concern I feel cannot be ignored. According to Ministry records, the relations used to claim ancestry were found to be unsubstantiated. As such, the acceptance of Proxiship must be proclaimed withdrawn by the court and all votes revoked. This means all decisions made through votes that included the false Proxies must be stricken from the record and recast only by those granted through substantiated right of blood and magic.”

 

The overall reaction in the courtroom was, no doubt, not exactly what the former Headmaster had expected. All but Dumbledore’s staunchest supporters seemed surprised, if not shocked. Some even appeared confused. A claim of ancestry, which was not rejected by the magic of the Wizengamot itself, hadn’t been contested in about four hundred years.

 

It was said that Trojant Gaunt never made it through his first session in the Slytherin Seat he had tried to claim, supposedly on behalf of his father. The next Gaunt set to take the Lordship had been forced to swear an unbreakable vow to never attempt to circumvent inheritance laws for any reason before he was even granted the title, let alone his Seat on the court. For the old man to act as if his inability to find the records to substantiate the claims held more weight than the magic of the court not retaliating against a false claim was arrogant in the extreme, the brunette thought.

 

It took quite a bit of restraint not to smirk as the murmurs of the crowd drifted through the one-way privacy charms on the box inhabited by the three young wizards. Harry wanted to roll his eyes at the hastily concealed surprise that flashed behind half-moon glasses, but remained outwardly clam and collected for the benefit of those watching. It would seem that several others on the court felt the same, though they did not bother to hide their eye rolls or indignant noises at the automatic revocation of the court’s acceptance.

 

Every member of the Malfoy/Potter Bloc, past and present, plus the House of Burke and three other Houses that had been wavering in their bloc’s direction all rose to protest and insist that the Proxies be given leave to present the evidence by which their heir had claimed ancestry of the two contested Houses. With a total of twenty out of the thirty-six Houses against him, the Chief Warlock had no choice but to allow Ladies Malfoy and Longbottom to speak.

 

When the witches declared that they would bring proof of their claim at the next session, however, Dumbledore adopted a benevolent expression. His oh-so-polite response was that of a parent indulging their naughty child with the opportunity to plead their case despite knowing said child was clearly guilty. He hardly even tried to be subtle when implying that the time between sessions would be spent manufacturing a connection between Harry Potter and the Houses of Black and Gryffindor.

 

The Dowager Longbottom responded with characteristic sharpness, saying she could hardly be expected to carry extensive genealogical records with her at all times. A twitter of amusement made its way through the chamber, causing the elderly wizard to bristle slightly, then even more clearly when the witch indicated that she felt it should be proof enough of the connection between Potter and Gryffindor that the goblins had tested the Potter heir and were so confident in the connection as to grant the young wizard uncontested access to the Gryffindor and Black vaults.

 

The former Headmaster answered that with a disgusted look and a dismissive gesture. It was hardly a secret among the court that Albus Dumbledore did not like the goblins. No one was surprised when he implied that goblins could not be trusted, especially with important matters of Wizarding law. What did surprise many members of the court was the sarcasm with which Narcissa Malfoy spoke a moment later.

 

“Indeed. Goblins are so untrustworthy that they once even filed a suit against a well respected wizard for trying to withdraw more than allowed from the Hogwarts vaults.”

 

Whispers rippled through the Wizengamot chamber as witches and wizards recalled the goblins’ accusations two decades before. In 1971, the revered Albus Dumbledore had been above reproach and had easily dismissed the case in his role as Chief Warlock. Only Lucius Malfoy and a few others had questioned it at the time, but having now been reminded twice of the incident, others began to wonder if there had been some truth to the accusations after all.

 

The blonde witch let out a dainty sigh while adopting a rather put upon expression. “That being the case, if it pleases the court, the House of Black requests a one hour recess to retrieve the documents in question.”

 

“Yes,” Augusta said before the Chief Warlock was able to respond. “Let us resolve this today and get on with more important matters.”

 

Having already implied putting the matter off to the next session would be problematic, Dumbledore was hardly in a position to now protest what would allow the court to avoid the wait. With a somewhat disgruntled smile, the one hour recess was granted, the old man no doubt annoyed that he would not be able to say that any proof now presented had been crafted in the sixty minutes it took to retrieve it. Not that the documents wouldn’t be questioned anyway. In fact, there was a Ministry document examiner ready and waiting next to the Chief Warlock when the hour was up and the session re-convened.

 

The Longbottom Regent ignored the elderly wizard almost completely, instead presenting the private records, which had been compiled and provided to her by the Lord and Lady Malfoy the day Harry had assigned her the Gryffindor Proxy. The collection of documents included ancient genealogies from the Arthurian Houses of Black and Peverell, which showed the direct connection from Lady Igraine of Tintagel, to Lady Morgause, to Sir Gawain of Camelot, down to Godric Gryffindor, and then eventually to Linfred of Stinchcombe where the line was believed to have died out. Records from the Houses of Malfoy and Potter completed the connection by showing Linfred of Stinchcombe, the Potterer, to be the father of Hardwin Potter, Harry Potter’s undisputed ancestor.

 

In addition, Lady Longbottom also supplied certified copies of the lineage tests performed by the goblins, which had allowed the Potter heir access to the previously sealed Gryffindor vault and the original Hogwarts Charter. The contents of each scroll and sheet of parchment were read aloud to the court before being subjected to numerous complicated verification spells by the Ministry expert there and then. When dating spells clearly showed all the documents to have been created in the tenth and eleventh centuries, a few whispers started amongst the Nobles.

 

When the magical signatures of the documents’ authors were compared to the Black and Potter ancestors and proven to be written by the appropriate witch or wizard, the whispers grew. As several more charms and spells clearly verified that none of the records had been tampered with, altered, or even updated since the late twelfth century, those whispers spread into the audience.

 

Whispers became murmurs as the Lady Malfoy, acting as the Black Proxy and the permanent legal guardian to the Potter heir, produced four separate Wills. The first, that of her own ancestor, Arcturus Black, confirmed that Sirius Orion Black had been the official heir to the House of Black upon his imprisonment. Sirius’ living Will, as well as the Wills of James and Lily Potter, further proved that Harry had been magically adopted through ritual and was the legal and magical heir to the House of Black as well as to the Houses of Potter and Peverell.

 

By the time the verification spells had shown the Wills to be unaltered and the magical signatures of Arcturus, Sirius, James, and Lily, had all proven them to be authentic, murmurs had turned to exclamations. Draco could hear a few comments regarding the Lady Potter’s clear statements about her son’s guardianship which had already been revealed before the Censure of Dumbledore, but mostly, the court and its audience were absorbed with the obvious verification of the contested Proxies. The reactions were fun to watch, and grey and green met several times during the hour it took for the evidence to be presented. Neither could hold the other’s gaze for more than a moment, however, for fear of losing control of their carefully crafted expressions.

In what must have been a last ditch effort to limit his opponents’ power, the Chief Warlock tried to challenge the ritual Sirius had used to adopt his godson. That only managed to offend every member of the Old Families who sat on the court. Even the Nobles of younger Pure-blood families immediately defended the grey, but legal, adoption ritual. Dumbledore appeared more than a little surprised, and even slightly overwhelmed, by the Nobles’ reactions. When Lady Amelia Bones, the former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, stood to list the legal codes which allowed the use of the ritual, the twinkle almost left entirely for the several seconds during which Dumbledore could do little more than blink repeatedly in apparent confusion.

 

The Chief Warlock’s visible opinion that he had lost control of the day’s outcome – and wasn’t quite sure how or why – continued to be written across his wrinkled face as he tapped his wand on the podium to signal the court’s decision to uphold the Potter claim to the Houses of Gryffindor and Black, and therefore uphold the votes cast by those Proxies. As he raised his wand and called an end to the day’s session, the old man seemed to realize what had happened, and though he made an apparent effort to look abashed at an innocent and well meaning mistake, another quick exchange of glances between the three heirs watching showed each other that they could easily see that he was in fact furious at being outplayed.

 

The old man’s effort was not entirely wasted, however, as many on the court chose to believe that their Chief Warlock had not been acting with selfish intent. However, in the course of the next two sessions, as the Wizengamot handled the regular minutiae of the court, the well-honed portrayal of benevolence weakened. It began to crumble entirely on Sunday the 18th, when the Hogwarts Board of Governors presented everything that had been found during the course of their official review of the school, its administration, and its Charter.

 

The lordlings found it extremely satisfying to see some of the old man’s rage and frustration peek through the cracks of his mask as the seven members of the Board stood before the court and presented the findings of whatever aspect of the review with which each had been tasked. They found it so satisfying, in fact, that two of the young wizards were still enjoying it hours after court had adjourned for the day.

 

“This was a great idea,” Draco said with a grin as he and Harry prepared to enter the Pensieve. The brunette responded with a grin of his own as the library was replaced by the sight of the visitor’s gallery.

 

The Potter heir grinned even wider when he noticed himself sitting with almost every appearance of calm in the seat beside his friends. Having been involved in the many meetings that had been held throughout the review process, Harry had known exactly what was coming and he hadn’t been sure at the time how well he had succeeded in keeping the smug expression off his face as he watched. It appeared that he had done quite well indeed. A feeling of pride, which he had slowly managed to become familiar with over the years of his stay at the Manor, left him feeling warm as he shifted his gaze away from the colorless image of himself from that morning.

 

His best friend had already done the same, and the two young wizards quickly settled in to enjoy the show. The content of the Board’s presentation hadn’t been a surprise to either when it had been made the first time, so they didn’t spare much attention to listen to it this time either. Instead, they focused on the reactions of the court, and its Chief Warlock. The entire Wizengamot appeared to be listening intently, though some looked either annoyed or offended by the Lord Malfoy’s words as he gave a brief overview of the way the Board had gone about conducting its review of the school.

 

“Remind you of McGonagall?” Draco asked with a nod towards the less than pleased court members, who coincidentally were the largest fans Dumbledore had among the Nobles. Mention of the sour professor made the smaller boy laugh briefly, distracting him somewhat from his impatience. He knew the largest reaction of the day was forthcoming and he was anxious to actually see who had done what. The overall cacophony had not allowed him to really notice at the time.

 

The feeling of anticipation heightened as a soft buzz of reaction began after the blond aristocrat finished listing the objectives that the Board and new Headmaster had agreed upon before the official start of the review. That buzz rose to a roar as the Lord Abbott began his report. Being the member most widely regarded as quote, unquote, Light, in the eyes of the public, he had been chosen to supervise the examination of the three versions of the Hogwarts Charters. That is, the one that had been supplied by the Chief Warlock and former Headmaster for the use of the school, the Wizarding Examinations Authority, and the Wizengamot, in comparison with the copy possessed by the Board, and the one provided to Harry from the Gryffindor Vault.

 

He started his presentation with the comparison between the Magical signatures recovered from the school wards and those attached to the original Founders’ Charter, which prevented even the slightest argument that the document could be anything but fully authentic. Harry recalled the way he hadn’t been able to prevent his eyes from widening significantly as they took in the sight of outraged witches and wizards when the findings of four separate document examiners declared the Charter that had been used by the court for the last three decades to have been significantly altered both before and after it was provided to the Wizengamot.

 

He and Draco exchanged the incredulous expressions they hadn’t been able to that morning as they once against watched Nobles left and right suddenly yelling in either disbelief or outrage. The Charter, they had cried, had been authenticated by Albus Dumbledore himself. How, they’d asked, could he not have noticed that large portions of the document had been changed? Had he noticed and just ignored it because all the changes were in his favor? Had he – gasp – been involved in making the changes in the first place?

 

The two young wizards shook their heads. “I don’t understand. Your dad told them that his copy of the Charter was different when he spoke to the court at the first session. When I assigned my Proxies he showed them the copy I was given by the goblins as a Founder’s Heir. And we’ve already proven that my claim to the House of Gryffindor is valid. Lord Malfoy had all but accused Dumbledore of forging the document, or at least knowingly using a fake copy, more than once over the course of presenting the Board’s formal protest against the old coot. How is this a surprise to any of them?”

 

Draco just shook his head and his best friend followed suit as they continued to watch. Part of the review the court had ordered was to evaluate the differences between the original Charter, the copy of the Charter currently being used, and the running of the school to see where changes were needed to align the administration and teaching with the Founders’ design of Hogwarts. Neither could see why the fact that there were differences was suddenly considered shocking. “I guess some of them either didn’t think any of that through at the time, or they had convinced themselves that there was some kind of misunderstanding.”

 

“I guess,” the brunette agreed, a note of incredulity still audible in his voice.

 

After a few minutes, the young wizards pulled their thoughts away from their own disbelief and refocused on the way the unexpected reaction had affected their opponent. Wanting to save the best for last, Harry first found the present Head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority to see how the ardent Dumbledore supporter had fared. The answer was a pleasant _not well_. The once respected Ministry Head looked entirely overwhelmed attempting to fend off the ire of those around her.

 

A closer glance around showed that some of those who were vehemently protesting the news included witches and wizards who had always been fans and supporters of the old man. Apparently, Harry thought with an internal smirk, they had finally jumped ship and joined the growing sound of indignation and fury.   The young brunette let out a delighted laugh as he watched the Minister trying to take over the Chief Warlock’s task of calling for silence as the wizard was too busy responding to protests and accusations to do it himself. He’d known the man had done it, but hadn’t been able to fully enjoy the sight before.

 

Once Minister Fudge had managed to get everyone to quiet down, some of the anger seemed to suppressed enough to allow the presentation to resume. Grumbles of discontent had continued, however, as several Nobles demanded to see the ward report that had supplied the Founders’ Signatures. This had led to a presentation of the report in question by Lord Bulstrode, which only increased the outcry.

 

Hearing that the school wards had been years out of date and that many features hadn’t even been engaged at all had caused somewhat of a ripple among court members, particularly those who had argued for or against Dumbledore casting the wards himself. The lack of intent wards on the school, which had no doubt allowed the possessed Quirrell entrance the year before, was quite effective in stirring up a good quarter of the Sitting Nobles. This time it was the blond who let out the laugh he had been forced to swallow down that morning. Harry’s grin turned quizzical a moment later when it was announced that the weather wards on the pitch had fallen completely almost a decade before and never been replaced.

 

The sudden fury on the face of the Lord of the Ancient House of Flint still didn’t make sense to him, and of course he hadn’t been able to ask for an explanation the first time. Now, green eyes shifted to grey and the other boy answered his question before he even had to ask.

 

“Lord Flint is Marcus Flint’s father,” Draco stated. “Marcus was badly injured two years ago, during his first year on the Quidditch team. It happened during a storm. The bludger that hit him caused so much damage to his jaw that he had to have three procedures to regrow the bone and teeth.” It went unsaid that while bones could be almost easily regrown, teeth were a much more challenging to replace solely with magic.

 

The famous young wizard’s face lit with sudden understanding. Everyone in Slytherin, and probably most of the school, knew the chaser looked the way he did because of a Quidditch injury. But Harry hadn’t known that it happened because of a storm. The Noble’s reaction to the news about the weather ward made perfect sense now. “I wonder,” mused the brunette as the scene unfolded before them, “if Lord Flint would be quite so upset if the family had had enough money to hire private healers?”

 

A soft snicker was his only response, though he didn’t take the time to ask if his friend was more amused by the reference to Lord Flint’s vanity or the implication that the Healers at St. Mungo’s hadn’t done a very good job repairing the damage that had resulted in the chaser’s well known facial disfiguration.

 

Draco, for his part, simply continued to enjoy the court’s less than polite language as the number of cursed objects within the castle clearly unsettled almost every witch and wizard present. The reactions had been, no doubt, for a variety of reasons, and did not match in every respect. Agreement, however, had been almost instantaneous when the curse on the Defense position had been confirmed a moment later. The angry muttering was a constant buzz by that point which the boys found just as satisfying the second time around as they had that morning.

 

It was equally satisfying to watch again as the dignified aristocrats became increasingly upset when Lord Shafiq explained his findings regarding the safety regulations and health protocols of Hogwarts. The many ways current standards fell short of those detailed in the Charter – not to mention basic modern safety standards – angered every parent in the room. As did the numerous ways in which the interaction they had received from the school during their children’s time there failed to live up to even those standards the administration under the former Headmaster had professed to follow.

 

That anger only grew louder as Lord Macmillan stepped forward to present his findings. Harry and Draco exchanged grins yet again as they hungrily took in the fallout they knew was coming. As it had when the Charter had been confirmed, the noise in the chamber grew to overwhelming levels with the distribution of parchments outlining the comparison between the course schedule devised by the Founders and that which had been followed since the late 1950s, shortly after Dumbledore became Headmaster.

 

The overall sensation of negativity and shock which had easily reached the back of the visitor’s gallery and the private box they and Neville had occupied that morning was still enjoyable. But now they had the opportunity to take in the details that had previously escaped them. The young brunette distantly marveled at the magic which made a Pensieve memory so accurate, a part of him wondering how he could have remembered so much that he hadn’t noticed at the time. As fascinating as that train of thought was, however, it was easy to disregard when the alternative was paying attention to all the startled exclamations being made throughout the Seats of the court. Snatches of conversations and arguments reached them as the two made their way through the many aisles.

 

“Why were Spell Crafting and Warding eliminated from the elective options?” The boys could hear one Lady in the Ancient tiers asking the Noble beside her. Green eyes couldn’t help but roll at the sound before meeting grey. Harry was spared the need to make the comment he’d intended when the other Lady answered with a sneer that caused the two friends to laugh out loud.

 

“I would certainly have chosen them myself, but clearly Mr. Dumbledore felt Divination and Muggle Studies were better options. It says here that they should have been extra curricular courses.”

 

A Lord among the Lesser Nobles could be heard yelling, “Arithmancy and Ancient Runes were required for years fourth through sixth?”

 

Another, whom Draco absently identified as Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Fawley stuttered about the fact that the extra curricular subject of Magical Theory had originally been required for first, second, and third-years. The chaos surrounding them was a joy to watch and Harry actually found himself bouncing just a little on the balls of his feet as he listened to it. Even better was the poorly suppressed rage beneath the stiff smile on the face of Albus Dumbledore.

 

“I think he’s trying to look sympathetic,” the taller boy observed with a chuckle as he followed Harry’s gaze.

 

The Potter heir’s laugh was anything but innocent as he agreed. “Me too, though I think it’s one of those dismissive, ‘I know better than you so just shut up’ looks too.” Harry cocked his head to one side, as if trying to take it in from another angle would clarify what he was seeing. “The combination makes him look a little constipated, don’t you think?”

 

The pair laughed so hard they missed quite a few other comments and it took a long minute for them to gain enough control of their mirth to take in more of the nuances of the court members. Once he had refocused, the brunette could see that the loss of formerly required courses had a mixed effect on the Lords and Ladies. Not that the spectacled boy was at all surprised that they were far more upset about first-years no longer studying Latin than they were that seventh-years no longer learned Ritual Magic. Nor was he surprised that the reaction to the fact that Flying – which had originally been an extra curricular – had been made required was notably absent regardless of the fact that the change was the direct cause of Latin being removed from the first-year schedule.

 

He probably would have been surprised, though, if they hadn’t hear at least one person complaining about the extension of History of Magic, which had once been only a three year requirement, being supplemented instead with Ancient Studies in the latter years. As expected, four different Nobles grumbled, cursed, and called out upon reaching that notation on the parchment. The noise continued for several minutes, even after it was clear that all the court members had finished reading through the pages. Eventually, however, it quieted down enough for the Board’s presentation to continue.

 

Many still appeared shocked when the curriculum was compared to the other major schools of magic in other countries, they just did so more quietly. The sound Draco made beside him was hardly quiet, though. “Honestly, how have so few British Nobles been outside of the country before? It is not exactly a secret internationally that Hogwarts has a limited curriculum.”

 

Harry nodded absently in response but was too focused to say anything. Someone was about to comment, he knew, but he wasn’t sure who. When the voice had interrupted the Board member that morning, it had been so sudden that he hadn’t been able to see the speaker before others had chimed in and forced Lord Greengrass to cut in earlier than planned to explain what he had found out about the financial straights of the school.

 

“These classes must be added to the student schedules immediately! Our children deserve to be taught everything the Founders intended for them to learn!”

 

Green orbs snapped to the outraged face of the elderly Lord Ross even as the Lord across from him argued with equally sudden vehemence that the changes must have been made for a good reason and to just undo it all would surely be detrimental. Another member of the Lesser Noble tier piped in with a demand to know who would be paying for the extra classes and instructors if the courses were added back into the curriculum. The verdant gaze shifted to meet grey as the fiscal report was started behind them.

 

“Lady Longbottom was right, the House of Ross may well be ready to listen to an overture from your father.”

 

Draco nodded, recalling the conversation they had all shared after the morning’s session. The two friends observed the Nobles that had been the topic of that particular conversation as Lord Greengrass discussed administrative expenses, maintenance costs, and salary percentages. There wasn’t much of a reaction to the speech, though one or two looked suitably suspicious or angered when they received a copy of the sheaf of numbers being distributed. Harry had seen them already, of course, even before the session. He had hoped more of the court members would have a reaction to the unusually large amounts listed as ‘miscellaneous expenditures,’ which conveniently lacked any detail as to what they had been expended on.

 

“Once everyone has had a chance to look over the parchment records of the account activity over the last few decades, that will change,” Draco reassured him. “They clearly did not look much this morning. But at least some of them will tonight. Some might even have done it by now. And when they do, especially when they see how it compares to the activity on those same accounts under Dippet’s tenure, they’ll have a reaction. At least one or two will have a truly wonderful reaction, and I sincerely look forward to seeing it when the time comes.”

 

The brunette nodded slightly to acknowledge the prediction. It was most likely an accurate one. Families like the Flints, who remained in the upper echelon of Wizarding society and yet had had only enough funds to cling to their position, were very sensitive to the way money was spent by those whom they considered to be below them and yet had those envied galleons.

 

Hogwarts was a revered institution, but as far as those families were concerned it existed for the betterment of their heirs and having proof of the mismanagement of funds specifically allotted to the running of the school was bound to ruffle a few less-than-wealthy feathers. And that would, he agreed, be something to look forward to. Perhaps more so than the remainder of the Board’s presentation, which consisted of Lord Burke’s recitation of the school’s comparatively deplorable teaching standards. As if a possessed Muggle Studies Professor being hired for the Defense position hadn’t been bad enough.

 

“To think, if things had gone differently, that horrid groundskeeper could have been our teacher in a few years’ time,” the smaller wizard said with a shake of his head. The young blond shuddered lightly at the reference to the parchment that had been found in the staff files which indicated that the hiring of said groundskeeper had actually been initiated days before Dumbledore had been suspended. The revelation had had the same effect on several of the Nobles, Harry noted as they continued to view the memory.

 

Frankly, the boy-hero was a little disturbed that more didn’t appear to be properly horrified at the prospect of someone like that being entrusted to teach a course that included potentially dangerous animals. The position required, at the very least, the ability to use magic to defend the students under such conditions. Not to mention an education in the subject being taught, which was a little difficult to claim of someone who hadn’t graduated Hogwarts and was not legally allowed to carry a wand. And that was without even considering the absurdity of letting someone who had broken the 1965 ban on experimental breeding multiple times actually teach children about magical creatures.

 

“Well,” the taller boy said with a voice that practically dripped sarcasm, “the oaf was never actually charged with illegal possession or breading of dangerous animals.” The best friends shared a look while the memory of the Wizengamot session approached its conclusion.

 

“Of course he wasn’t, the Chief Warlock conveniently chose not to,” the bespectacled young wizard pointed out.

 

“And of course, once hired, it would take proof of serious physical danger to students to even attempt to get rid of him under the stipulations of the so-called Charter the court was using. I think if that oaf actually was hired, we’d have had to stage some kind of injury just to get him fired before a student really did get hurt or killed. Merlin knows it would happen at some point with that giant idiot in charge of Care of Magical Creatures.”

 

Harry shook his head again, this time in amusement at the sudden mental image of his friend whinging and crying over a supposed injury. Draco adopted an overly innocent expression. “It would be for the greater good.”

 

The Potter heir let out a laugh as he refocused on the memory, enjoying the animated expressions and colorful language of the various Nobles as the session ended and they all stood to leave. It boded well for the forthcoming reaction of the public the next day, especially based on the excitement and anger of the reporters he once again saw outside the courtroom doors as they watched the audience file past. The aristocrats and their families were clearly too worked up to even try and censor themselves so the reporters were sure to have overheard something scandalous enough to print.

 

On their original departure that morning, he had thought he’d caught a glimpse of the legal correspondent for the Prophet among the press. Now he was sure of it, and not only that, the reporter looked to practically have foamed at the mouth at what he was hearing. Harry recalled clearly wanting to stay and watch and he wished they had as the memory began to dissolve around them. Even so, what they had been able to deposit in the Pensieve had been well worth watching. By the next morning, however, he wasn’t sure what was more entertaining, watching the Nobles begin turning against the old man, or seeing the Wizarding media do the same.

 

The article focused mainly on the discrepancies between the Founders’ Charter and the copy previously used by the court and Ministry. It seemed the reporter was quite interested in the changes that had been made to the school, and the article would presumably do a lot to make the general public interested as well. Overall, the tone of the day’s paper was more directly negative regarding the former Headmaster than ever before. Public opinion as a whole was sure to finally turn decisively against him.

 

If nothing else, the Board of Governor’s findings had hammered in another nail in the old fool’s reputation as Headmaster. The review of the school was proving to be as much a success as they had hoped and it had taken them one step closer to their next major goal. Now Dumbledore’s strongest support rested in his position as Chief Warlock and his famous defeat of Grindlewald, even despite implications about his relationship with the Dark wizard from earlier that summer. Those two things remained to be seen by die-hards as proof that the elderly wizard was still a defender of the light and a warrior against dark wizards.

 

The most devoted of his sycophants were sure to cling to Albus Dumbledore as the defender of Wizarding Britain. Surely, some still claimed that all the crimes that had come to light over the summer were purely innocent mistakes made for all the right reasons. It had been clear, even in the Pensieve memory, that a handful on the court still considered the Chief Warlock to be a champion of the Light among the Wizengamot with the best interests of their country at heart. Even knowing this, the breakfast table at the Manor was host to four smiling faces as the editions of the paper were poured over and recited throughout the meal.

 

“We have made significant progress since the school term ended,” the eldest blond admitted between sips of hot tea as he considered the ranking of the various pieces on a chessboard. “The blindly adoring masses have served as pawns in his games for decades, and now the majority have been removed from the board. The Ministry employees and Nobles once so soundly in his pocket have begun to desert him, leaving the old man short more than a few bishops.”

 

“And his knights? His rooks?” Draco asked with an arched brow at his father’s chosen analogy.

 

“The little vigilante group of his he thinks no one knows about would equate to knights, I suppose. Useful and reliable but still expendable. They may still rally around him, but are of little strategic use now that the Dark Lord is out of the game. The important piece for us is the queen, or the combination of the various positions of power he holds, or has held. They are still, as we have always felt, the key to his downfall.”

 

The boys both nodded as the adults exchanged satisfied smiles. The Malfoy heir, however, remained taken by the chess terms and persisted, thinking over the many plans they had devised and followed in their quest to take down the manipulative wizard. “What about his rooks? What would those be considered?”

 

For a moment, there was silence at the table, but just before Lucius opened his mouth to answer, the smallest member of the household spoke for him. For all that he had felt like nothing but a pawn, he had realized that strategically he had held at least a little more value to the old man. “The vulnerable, naïve little Boy-Who-Lived who was to have seen Hogwarts and Dumbledore as a refuge to cling to with little thought or question. The seemingly valuable game pieces that were meant to stand bravely and foolishly before the white king and queen against any attack from the black king.” Harry Potter smiled grimly into his tea. “He lost those pieces a long time ago.”

 

It was silent another moment, then one after another, the Malfoys each raised their glass in a wordless toast before the youngest blond finally found his voice once more. “He certainly did. And his loss is our gain.”

 

Green rose to meet grey and two matching smiles restored the festive atmosphere to the table. Before the meal was done, a happy conversation had commenced as to the ways they would soon manage to gain what they would need to attack the opposition’s remaining argument in their favor. He may still be seen as a famous protector but they would only need to show his clearly negative actions and intentions to loosen his tenuous hold on the Ministry and the court. Not much planning however, was needed on their parts as the Ministry and court themselves handed them the needed ammunition – or at least an opportunity to get it – at the next court session.


	7. Avalanche

Wednesday, the twenty-first of August, 1991, saw the fifteenth session of the Wizengamot’s Summer Season and an unprecedented occurrence, even given the shocking happenings of the last few months. An investigation into the possible criminal actions of the great Albus Dumbledore was officially called for by the Auror Department. In what the three heirs considered an especially enjoyable show, even some of the old wizard’s fans voted in favor of the investigation in an apparent attempt to distance themselves from the rapidly falling star of their Chief Warlock.

 

The new Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Rufus Scrimgeour, certainly saw the writing on the wall of the once pristine shrine to Dumbledore. Amelia Bones’ recent replacement looked almost too eager to start the process, though Lord Malfoy’s contacts in the Ministry had found nothing about the egotistical wizard to indicate a personal grudge against the former Headmaster. They could only assume the interest was because of a hunger for the spotlight and the professional advancement that would be possible from heading such a prestigious case.

 

If that was the man’s reasoning, it was not overly successful, Lucius commented the next day as he read the Prophet’s sensationalized coverage of the upcoming investigation, which included a list of names of all the Aurors assigned to the case. The most notable name was that of the famous Alastor Moody. The Lord informed the rest of the table over dinner that night that, according to their Ministry contact, Moody had insisted on being part of investigation and the grizzled Auror was too well-respected to be ignored. The only reason the one-legged wizard hadn’t been made the new Head of the DMLE was because he was due to retire at the end of the year and couldn’t be convinced otherwise.

 

Opinions were mixed as to how useful the assignment would prove to be. “I remember Gran talking about him, even when I was little. They don’t just call him Mad-Eye because he’s got a magical eye. Apparently he’s completely paranoid and sees threats and potential enemies everywhere. I don’t think he’ll ignore the evidence or assume Dumbledore’s good just because he likes him.”

 

Draco shook his head slightly at his friend. “Father has always said Alastor Moody was one of the most ruthless Aurors there were during the war, and quite dogged in his pursuit of criminals, so I suppose it’s possible he will look into the old man thoroughly.”

 

Harry bit his lip and fiddled absently with his glasses. “I still think he’s already made up his mind about Dumbledore, and more importantly, us. He sees Lord Malfoy as evil and everyone that works with him as evil too. He probably won’t trust a single fact or scrap of evidence simply because the whole thing was started by someone he sees as just a Death Eater. He may be capable of changing his mind about a friend and considering them a foe, but I doubt he could ever do the reverse.”

 

The debate continued for two days, until Saturday evening when Lucius received word from his contact in the Auror Department that new evidence had prompted a search of the Weasley property.

 

“Apparently,” explained the blond aristocrat as the family settled down for drinks and tea after dinner, “correspondence between Molly Weasley and Dumbledore was located in the initial search of his residence. Further letters found to be in her possession as well as other items look to prove some kind of plot or other unlawful intentions was being orchestrated between them.”

 

The details were sparse, but all indications were of a successful start to the investigation, but the smirks they wore to bed had been replaced by much more rigid expressions the next morning. The Lord of the House of Malfoy looked especially strained as he set down the new owl he’d received from one of his contacts.

 

“Does it say what the letters between Weasley and the old man were about?” Draco had queried as soon as his father finished reading.

 

“Indeed it does. It would seem that the two intended to ensure the long term cooperation of the Boy-Who-Lived by manipulating him into a relationship with the Weasley daughter.”

 

Harry flinched rather violently in his seat, though it was the young blond who asked how such a thing was to have been accomplished.

 

“There were all the needed ingredients for several types of love potions in the Weasley woman’s possession, and more than one of the letters included brewing recipes or other such recommendations. So one must assume that a potion-induced love affair was to be the goal.”

 

Harry found himself unable to finish the small plate of snacks he had just served himself. A strange, cold sensation gripped his chest and stomach, leaving him more than a little nauseous. The feel of his best friend’s firm grip on his shoulder was a welcome one as he struggled to make sense of what had been said and still pay attention to the conversation that continued to take place.

 

“The larger issue at the moment, however, is what else was located at the Weasley hovel. Apparently, the family has owned a pet rat for nearly a decade and when Auror Moody’s magical eye caught sight of it, it was discovered that the animal was something else entirely.”

 

“And what was that, dear?” asked the Lady of the Manor.

 

“An Animagus by the name of Peter Pettigrew.”

 

That announcement prompted another few days of deliberations. The official and inarguable capture of the wizard long believed to be a victim of Sirius Black would no doubt be a significant boon to their plans to eventually make known the illegal and unsubstantiated incarceration of the rightful Lord of the House of Black. However, the revelation that the man partially responsible for the deaths of the Lord and Lady Potter had in fact spent the entire school year in Harry’s vicinity was more than a little unsettling. They all tried their best to focus on the fact that Pettigrew’s Dark Mark had guaranteed a swift and highly publicized trial at the very next Wizengamot session. There was mixed success.

 

For the two boys, their scheduled lessons on Monday and Tuesday of that week were almost a complete waste of time. They were so keyed up waiting for the trial, neither could concentrate on a single word their tutors spoke. The anxious wait proved worth it when they were able to watch the rotund prisoner being interrogated with Veritaserum under the direction of Rufus, and Albus Dumbledore himself. As he still retained his position of Chief Warlock, and the trial was not directly connected to the current investigation into himself, the former Headmaster could not be prevented from conducting the court’s activities. Even so, it was wonderfully amusing to see the noticeable tick in one of the not-so-twinkling eyes throughout the day.

  

Less amusing, but no less satisfying, was the immediate conviction of Peter Pettigrew. Being charged with his status as a Death Eater, betraying the Potters, faking his own death, and killing a dozen Muggles in the street explosion, it was hardly a surprise when the sentence was announced. Knowing the traitor would receive the Kiss within two days’ time was a kind of relief to the Potter heir, but as great as the conviction was, Harry felt thoroughly disturbed at hearing the description of his parents’ betrayal and the occurrences of that Halloween night.

 

The brunette’s two friends were left to herd him from their private box and through the gallery whilst keeping the curious audience members at bay. “Come on, Harry,” Draco whispered in the shorter boy’s ear as a loud witch jostled into him in an effort to catch a glimpse of the boy-hero. “We’ll be home soon. Father got us permission to use the Nobles’ exit, it’s right through here. We’ll be out of the crowd in a moment, I promise.”

 

The brunette could only nod silently as he concentrated on keeping his face blank and his gaze downward. They eventually managed to make it down to the court floor and out to the nearest Apparition point. It ended up taking the combined efforts of both heirs and all three adults to do so. Word of the trial had been front page news from the moment it leaked and every article and conversation that had resulted was as much about Harry Potter as it was Peter Pettigrew.

 

The end of the investigation into the former Headmaster and the release of the Auror’s official reports only made the spotlight on Harry worse. Even Dumbledore’s financial crimes against the school were reported in such a way as to highlight the orphan’s role as a Founder’s Heir so as to present the crime as one perpetrated against the famous boy. The potion plot hardly needed the Prophet to sensationalize it in order to keep the Boy-Who-Lived on the front page through the end of August.

 

The train ride on September first therefore proved to be not much easier than the ride home had been the previous year. It would have been even worse if the three boys hadn’t had the adults help them create and spell items for them to use to put up privacy charms in their train car without using their wands illegally. The idea, originally inspired by the spellwork on the private visitors’ box they had spent so much time in in the courtroom was sure to make the year easier.

 

“You know,” Neville stated with a glare at the locked door to their compartment, where yet another person was trying to get through to see the boy who had killed You-Know-Who twice by the age of eleven, “I bet we’ll be using these as often as we used the anti-eavesdropping spells last year. At least these won’t have to be re-cast every single time.”

 

The prediction proved true in the coming weeks as the Wizengamot continued to meet. No matter the discomfort he was sure to feel under the public scrutiny, Harry found himself aggravated that he couldn’t be at every court session while he was in school.

 

“That will change when you hold your titles,” Draco had assured him more than once, not that he wasn’t already aware of the fact that even when under his Proxies’ oversight at age fifteen, he would be have to be allowed to perform his Noble duties, regardless of his school schedule. It was a little reassuring to hear anyway, though, so he never chastised his friend for pointing out the obvious. He needed to hear it repeatedly their first week back in the castle.

 

On the third of September, Narcissa, as the Proxy for the House of Black, requested of the court a formal recognition of inconsistencies in the case against the rightful Black Lord. Considering Pettigrew’s conviction, it was not that difficult to argue that something had been awry with Sirius Black’s imprisonment. The court’s expected inability to produce any trial records, while a point in her favor, was not enough to force the issue.

 

Simply proving the need for further investigation into the situation took a ridiculous amount of debate as far as Harry was concerned. It was beyond frustrating for the Potter heir despite all three Malfoys and both Longbottoms explaining to him that it was because the court didn’t want to admit that they hadn’t seen or prevented such a problem. Certainly, the Wizengamot members did not want to look like they might have had a hand in imprisoning a Noble without trial.

 

When that very thing was nearly inescapable, a large bright spot appeared for the famous young wizard. On Saturday, September seventh, Albus Dumbledore’s removal from the court was called for by the highest-ranking seat on the court, which happened to be Lady Longbottom in her role as Gryffindor Proxy. The vote was scheduled with surprising haste.

 

“As much damage control and finger pointing as an attempt to right a wrong,” Draco had called it that evening when they’d settled into their dorm, “maybe more in some cases. I doubt all of the old fool’s biggest supporters on the court and elsewhere were unaware of what happened. They’re not shocked by such a thing happening under his tenure as Chief Warlock, just anxious not to be tarred with the same brush.”

  

Regardless of the reasoning behind the Wizengamot’s motivation for finally addressing the fact that their Chief Warlock had been found to have committed many crimes while on the court, they followed through on it. The dramatic media coverage of the old man’s swan song successfully diverted attention from the injustice against Sirius Black, at least temporarily. At least three Nobles were more than able to ignore the melodrama of the situation and enjoy the complete lack of twinkle in the once well-respected wizard’s eyes. Narcissa Malfoy did her best to convey that feeling in the letter she wrote her ward immediately following the court session.

 

_My Darling Harry,_

_I am sure that you would have appreciated the sight as much as we did this morning. As often as he has adopted a grandfatherly mien to accomplish his manipulations in the past, he finally looked authentically old, but certainly not wise, as he listened to the case being presented against him._

_Indeed, his face was so blank that my husband quite cheerfully speculates as to the use of potions. He gave hardly any indication of emotion whatsoever whilst Minister Fudge presided temporarily over the court in his place. As for the Minister himself, the man at first appeared overly pleased with the situation, though I do believe we are already seeing the effect of the preceding scandal as regards your Godfather._

_Fudge may have held reign over the Wizengamot today but it does not bode as well for his career as it might have in different circumstances. The other Nobles were less than circumspect in their suspicious appraisals of the man. Those looks were nothing compared with the ones the majority of our august body fixed upon the former paragon of Light and virtue. The vote of no confidence we have so long hoped for was overwhelming. I am so very pleased to inform you that Albus Dumbledore has been officially and permanently removed from the court, and his position of Chief Warlock within it._

_This joyous occasion will, of course, allow for the filing of formal legal charges against him. I believe this to be the intentions of the DMLE at this time. All indications are that the Auror investigation into Mr. Dumbledore’s conduct has successfully uncovered the needed evidence to finally hold him fully and criminally accountable for his heinous deeds against you and the whole of Wizarding Britain._

_Further developments occurred with which I am sure you will find much satisfaction. Before the court closed for the day, our next session was deemed the appropriate day upon which to try Molly Weasley for her horrible plans. As we had discussed, I petitioned to the court for this expedience citing her clear threat to yourself and other heirs and it was agreed by over three quarters of us that the witch posses enough danger to the children of our society to warrant the action._

_I close this letter with the hope that today’s events will bring you a measure of comfort and safety in knowing that the atrocious behavior of these two individuals is no longer unseen. As an intended victim your presence at our next session cannot be curtailed despite your school schedule. I have already informed your Head of House and arranged for the necessary assignments to be provided for you in advance of your departure._

_I will see you soon. Please give my love to Draco._

_Your loving guardian,_

_Lady Narcissa Malfoy_

                                        

Harry knew he should be as happy with the news as Narcissa had indicated he would be. He also knew that his lack of that emotion was a source of concern for his best friend. Draco was constantly giving him pointedly worried looks accompanied by inquires of varying subtlety about his health.

 

“I’m just tired,” the brunette assured him the next night. The blond’s raised brow indicated that he was less than reassured. As he ran a hand over his face, and then over the back of an impatient Excalibur, Harry tried again. “Honest, Draco. I’m just exhausted. I just- I just want it all over with. I’ll be able to enjoy it then, I’m sure.”

 

Grey eyes remained fixed silently on his face for several long moments before the taller boy gave a hesitant nod and got settled in his own bed for the night. The next morning, before they headed to the Great Hall for breakfast, however, the blond did not allow him out of their room without first discussing what they both knew would be on the front page of the Prophet when it arrived.

 

“The likely guilt of a mother of seven and the former Headmaster in a plot to potion an underage heir will be big news, but I don’t think it will completely overshadow the possibility of a government conspiracy to hide a Noble’s illegal eleven year imprisonment.”

 

Harry let out a loud sigh at the reminder as the other second-year rushed to finish his statement. “But that’s hardly a bad thing. Everything is coming together. Maybe not exactly like we planned, but any additional evidence against the old man only helps us, right? He’s off the ICW, he’s out of the school, and now he’s off the court, Harry. We’re so close to removing him from power and influence completely!”

 

The brunette did not express the hope or excitement his friend had wanted to draw out of him. Instead he sighed again and cuddled Cal to his chest for several long, silent moments. “I know,” Harry finally agreed tiredly.

 

“It’s what we wanted. What I wanted more than anything. For people to see what he’s done. For him to pay for it. But do you think maybe it’s coming together a little too easy? I mean, it’s only been a few months and he went from paragon to near-pariah. Will everything just swing back at the first opportunity?” the bespectacled Slytherin asked, green eyes closing when he received a furry head-but in response. A tiny hint of a tired smile played at the corners of the young wizard’s mouth while he scratched the cat behind his ears and waited for his best friend to answer as well.

 

“It can’t go back, Harry.” Draco reassured him even as he reached out to pet the purring Kneazle. “He can’t. That was the reason we’re making sure he loses all his positions. Public opinion may be fickle but power bases like the one Dumbledore had take decades to build. Which is why once we were able to reach a certain point the next steps were so much easier. Like father said, remember? _The speed of Dumbledore’s downfall is a reflection of the old man’s own house of cards. Every increase in fame and power he accumulated was built on lies or other misdeeds_. It makes sense that once enough of those false supports were uncovered that there would be an avalanche.”

 

Avalanche proved to be an apt term over the next few days as things continued to go rapidly downhill for the so-called Light side. Harry was able to witness at least part of that fall at the red-haired witch’s trial, though it was done alone as his friends had not been allowed to attend the session that Monday. The outcome he watched did not come as a surprise. Lord Malfoy’s contacts had been able to provide at least rumor of much of what was presented as evidence, so little of it came as a complete surprise to the second-year. Harry found himself thankful for that as it allowed him to maintain a sufficiently composed expression.

 

Even so, hearing the correspondence between Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Dumbledore read aloud, which detailed their plans for him, was still difficult. He did his best to focus on the absurdity that they had put it all in writing and then actually kept it around. The two had been so secure in the belief that they would never be suspected, let alone caught, that they hadn’t even destroyed the evidence.

 

And what evidence it was.

 

The letters had included time lines and methods of dosing the Potter heir starting in his fourth year at Hogwarts and even outlined Ginny Weasley’s planned reactions. Though it was not clear if the girl knew or would know about the plan, it was hardly subtle in its intentions towards the Boy-Who-Lived. They had exchanged recipes and arranged ingredient purchases and even made samples of a few of the recipes to compare their effectiveness. The idea of how that might have been done made the twelve-year-old shiver in his seat.

 

The outcome had been inevitable, especially when combined with Molly Weasley’s history. That is, the fact that she had been caught giving a potion to an upperclassman when she was a student. The vote for conviction was unanimous. It even included the Head of the House of Weasley, though most likely in an attempt to salvage some shred of reputation in the face of Molly’s crimes. Ten years in Azkaban for the _imminent theft and damage of the lineage of an honored House and the intention to subvert and confine the will and person of an underage heir through the use of legal and illegal potions_ made the day objectively worth it.

 

Still, sitting stoically through the recitation of another plan to control him as heinously as had been done when he was trapped in the abusive home of his early childhood had prompted him to do something he never would have imagined doing. He had taken his cue from Albus Dumbledore. He had dosed himself with a strong calming potion before the start of the court session to ensure he would not loose control of himself while in public.

 

Thankfully, as horrible as the offenses covered in upcoming sessions proved to be, none were so severe as to demand another such dose for the Potter heir. Though use of Dreamless Sleep in the interim might have had something to do with that. Certainly the expertly brewed potion and the uninterrupted sleep it provided left him rested and clear headed for the final two sessions before the court’s Samhain Recess, both of which he was able to watch first hand. As the Black heir, a crime against the Black Lord was, after all, considered a crime against him too.

 

Harry struggled to find some small enjoyment in the close of the court’s Summer Season. Yet, he found it more than annoying that the court felt it appropriate to punish those it deemed responsible for the illegal incarceration before deigning to address the effect of that crime, namely Sirius’ still being illegally held in Azkaban. The abstract crime against a man he had never met, however, was ever so slightly edged out by the crimes he had lived through as a result. As such, he managed to gain a measure of satisfaction in watching those responsible for his years with the Dursleys finally be held responsible.

 

He could appreciate the charges against Minister Fudge but was most pleased with those against who he considered to be the main perpetrators. Former Minister Bagnold, former Head of the DMLE Crouch, and former Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore. Being the highest profile individual, charges were leveled against the former Headmaster first for his failure to do anything to prevent or correct the situation at the time. His defense for not checking into it when he was supposedly told by Crouch that there had already been a secret trial – that he had been too busy seeing to the safety of the infant Boy-Who-Lived – had finally broken said boy from his exhausted and overwhelmed malaise.

 

As a result, Harry finally began to take the pleasure in his enemy’s downfall that he had missed thus far. Almost every night, when their homework had been hastily completed, the three friends met in the familiar back corner of the library and reveled in the contents of the letters they received from their parents and guardians that day. The Lord and Lady Malfoy and the Lady Longbottom were explicit in their details when recounting the drama that happened outside of the courtroom and Harry himself provided a thorough description of the two Wizengamot sessions.

 

Friday the 13th saw three grinning twelve-year-olds sharing the delights of their former Headmaster’s ruin. The crimes for which he had been Censured were unfortunately considered already litigated and so were not able to be included in the criminal charges levied, but anything not directly addressed at the time was fair game. The financial crimes uncovered in the Hogwarts records – including embezzlement, or as the old man had tried to put it, ‘the redirection of school funds for the war effort’, the forgery of the school Charter, the dereliction of various duties as Headmaster, the conspiracy with Molly Weasley, and the inaction regarding Black’s imprisonment – were all prosecuted to their fullest.

 

Even the illegal militia charges he and Draco had once speculated about in regards to his running of the Order of the Phoenix had been included as they connected rather obviously to the thefts through the Red Wing Foundation. Harry cleared his throat as loudly as possible before adopting a pompous and overly dramatic tone as he read from the court transcript his guardian had just sent him.

 

“The convicted, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, shall be confined in Azkaban Prison for a term of no less than eighteen years followed by five years of civil confinement at his primary residence during which the convicted shall not legally have the use of his wand. The convicted shall then, for a period of five years be subject to weekly examinations of his wand and behavior which shall prescribe to the code of conduct of Closely Monitored Civilians under paragraph three subjections B through G of the Wizarding Penial Code of 1893. Any violation of the above conditions will automatically result in the forfeiture of custody of said convict to the Governor of Azkaban Prison for a further ten years.”

 

The other boys clapped and cheered to their hearts’ content behind their privacy charms while the brunette took an elaborate bow and then joined in the merriment. It remained unsaid that additional punishment was no doubt awaiting the fallen hero from Magic herself. Violating a Magical Contract was more than just a legal crime, after all. More than one late night had been spent speculating as to the possible repercussions of such an act, but they all knew that only time would tell what Magic had in store for Albus Dumbledore. It was a pity that such consequences were often long term, of course. Though it was entirely possible that he had been suffering them for years and had hidden it along with everything else.

 

Thankfully, they would not have to wait to enjoy the legal convictions for those who had wronged the Wizarding World and its Second-Time-Savior. It was several minutes before a winded Neville took his turn, reading out the verdicts relating to the former Minister and DMLE Head. For intentionally preventing Sirius Black’s trial, ensuring his illegal confinement, and knowingly ignoring the duties of their positions in not allowing an investigation into the supposed crimes, both Bagnold and Crouch were found guilty.

 

“Eleven years each in Azkaban,” the Longbottom heir proclaimed with a grin. “The same length of time which Lord Black has been there.” More cheers and laughter followed until curfew finally forced them all back to their dorms.

 

The sense of victory lasted more than long enough for it to enhance their celebration the following Wednesday when Fudge and Umbridge, having been summarily ousted from their positions in the Ministry the day before, were given their trials and subsequent convictions.

 

“Willfully suppressing the rights of a Wizarding citizen,” Draco read from Fudge’s sentencing. “Four years in Azkaban. Twice the length of time since he took office, which is when he officially learned about what happened and didn’t do anything to fix it.”

 

“What did they charge that Umbridge woman for?” asked a smiling Neville.

 

“She blocked the trace on me that monitors accidental magic when I was left with the Muggles. Apparently certain types or frequency of accidental magic are supposed to be investigated in a Muggle house in case there’s risk of other Muggles seeing and therefore violating the Statue of Secrecy.”

 

The round-faced boy’s smile dipped downwards at the corners in confusion. “Why would she do that?”

 

Harry simply scowled at the surface of the table and Draco quickly stepped in to answer, hoping to close this portion of the conversation and get back to the more enjoyable part that focused on their overall victory. “She said at first that she did it because Dumbledore asked for her help to hide him from any remaining Death Eaters. But when they gave her Veritaserum she said that she watched the alerts anyway and since the pattern indicated abuse or mistreatment she left the block on to make sure he was punished for killing the Dark Lord.”

 

Neville’s eyes grew wide, then narrowed. “You think they might tack another conspiracy onto the old goat’s sentence? It might get him another few years?”

 

Draco let out a breath and shot the other Pure-blood a smile at the way the question seemed to restore Harry’s good mood.

 

“That would be great! She got two years in Azkaban for,” the brunette scanned his transcript for the proper wording, “ _her role in facilitating crimes against a Magical child_. Maybe they’ll give the old bastard another two years as well!”

 

The three exchanged another, wider grin and resumed their celebrations with a pile of smuggled sweets. The last of the convictions weren’t quite as severe as they had hoped for, but they had decided that morning to just take the additional victories all the same. The sense of relief the Potter heir felt at finally accomplishing so many of the goals he had had since the age of seven was far too keen to be damaged by disappointing sentences like Umbridge’s.

 

That same relief proved strong enough that weekend to carry him through the expected news of Narcissa’s call for a review of Sirius Black’s case and a trial for the wizard upon the opening of the next court Season. The missive carried a tinge of frustration with it, as the young heir had hoped to address the court himself regarding his Godfather’s case, but his desire to do so did not qualify him to leave the school. He had written a statement for his guardian and Proxy to read to the court on his behalf, but it didn’t provide him the level of participation he had wanted.

The general population of the school appeared to feel differently. Every word and action of his Proxies were seen by the students, especially the Gryffindors, as being directly attributed to the boy-hero. In certain instances it only added to the irritating number of witches and wizards who pestered and stalked him in the halls. In others, it seemed to invite constant vocal criticism every minute he was not closed in his dorm.

 

On average, fans and critics alike either maintained a frosty silence – his preference by far – or kept up a flurry of whispers and pointing. Even the Gryffindors didn’t try to approach him anymore, however, not since he had added a stinging hex to the privacy charmed items he now wore at all times. The addition had earned both young Slytherins a detention but the fact that they were physically left alone was worth it.

 

That wasn’t to say the majority of Gryffindors, including their Head of House, pretended to be friendly. Most often, anyone in red and gold gave him death glares, but in the nearly two months they had been at school only two had attempted to hex him in the hall. Over all, it had been a disappointing term. Harry had hoped that with Dumbledore out of Hogwarts that they would be able to enjoy school more so than they had the year before. He still held out hope. He knew from talking with Lord Malfoy and Lady Longbottom that plans were underway to update the curriculum, so soon they would at least be able to receive a quality education.

 

Between the wait and the constant unwanted attention, however, the brunette wondered if he would be better off transferring to France. “How long do you think it would take me to learn French?” he asked his best friend.

 

Draco narrowed his eyes, looking the smaller boy over in case he had missed any signs that one of the older lions had been bothering him again. For his part, the blond had been fairly fluent in the language as a child but the priorities of his at home education had shifted when Harry arrived when they were seven and he hadn’t mastered it as he would have otherwise. “Why don’t we work in the meeting room today? We can drop our things off there and I’ll go get Neville.”

 

The brunette let out a long sigh and nodded. They had taken to visiting Godric Gryffindor’s portrait at least once a week, but after the court Season came to a close, the three friends met there more and more often to avoid the crowds that even their warded corner of the library couldn’t hide them from.

 

The room was fast becoming a refuge for the young heirs, allowing them privacy when they needed it and a priceless source of information and advice. Whether they wanted it or not. Godric, for all his wise yet affable character, had been someone put out to learn that his only descendant had been sorted into Slytherin House. The renowned wizard seemed to be doing his best to teach and influence Harry as much as possible in an attempt to, in his words, _preserve thee proper character from such contamination as Salazar’s ilk are wont to provide._

 

The brunette couldn’t help a small grin as he fielded his ancestor’s greetings while waiting for his other friends to join him. Godric had a tendency to discuss the school and his fellows for about a quarter of every visit. Despite the lingering traces of Old English left from when he had last been awake, the Founder, whenever he mentioned Salazar Slytherin, sounded remarkably similar to one half of an old married couple bickering about their spouse. He had a feeling the two men had enjoyed an amusing, if slightly antagonistic, friendship.

 

Godric was, in general, an amusing person to speak with. Even the lectures he had delivered on managing the Board of Governors, dealing with the Wizengamot, and completing classwork had a joke or other humorous anecdote here and there.

 

“Have you any missives today, young sir?” Godric questioned once the pleasantries had finished.

 

The Potter heir found that his ancestor was a great audience to read his correspondence to, especially when it was one of his Proxies asking about his wishes on court matters or the Board’s continuing attempts to undo the damage to the school’s administration and academics. “No sir. Just homework.”

 

“And a sense of melancholy if mine eyes do not deceive me.”

 

Harry smiled slightly, glad the portrait’s language filters were beginning to catch up to more modern times. In an effort to distract himself from the bad mood that had prompted the visit, the second-year dived into his charms assignment, asking questions of the one-time professor. Charms of course had not been Godric’s specialty, but the wizard still had fascinating bits of advice on that topic and nearly any other. Other than Herbology and Potions. Those courses were apparently ones the painting’s subject had not enjoyed or excelled at when he was alive.

 

Minutes later, Draco and Neville joined in the conversation and it was little time at all before all three lordlings had completed the assignment. The remainder of the afternoon and early evening were spent simply talking with the portrait and each other. With October’s end only a week away, Samhain naturally came up in conversation, leading to a revelation that wiped away the last of the brunette’s discontent.

 

“The room ‘tis made for none other use than that of ritual observance. All you shall need for the sacred day wilst be available to you there. Only ask for that which is lacking and it wilst be brought forth.”

 

Harry closed his eyes and swallowed the burning sensation in the back of his throat. As Draco quietly explained the significance of the date to Godric, the young brunette was already imagining how much easier the anniversary would be with the ability to fully observe the holiday with both his friends. October had not gone particularly smoothly so far. While several members of the court spent its Samhain Recess reviewing Sirius’ case, Narcissa was drafting a reform bill on behalf of the House of Black to prevent similar acts of injustice in the future. But other than his letters to and from his Proxies, Harry was unable to participate directly in either process. But access to a full ritual room would at least help his overall mood if not the situations causing his frustration.

 

After another few minutes spent settling his mind and emotions, Harry reminded his friends that dinner would be served soon. The three boys offered their good-byes to the painting, then the smallest one made his way around the room, briefly sweeping a hand over each of the other three portraits. Godric had insisted on the action the first time the students had visited him at the start of the term. He claimed that following the Board meetings over the summer that he had seen the other Founders twitch or shift in their frames. The medieval wizard speculated that the presence of a Founder’s Heir and the use of the room for its intended purpose was gradually waking the others.  

 

“You share not blood with mine fellows,” Gryffindor reassured his heir before the boy left. “But still, the presence of our magic will soon bear fruit.”

 

Harry smiled back hopefully, then made his way towards the Great Hall, wondering absently how long such a thing might take. Perhaps it would not take as long as he feared. Certainly when he and the Malfoys had first begun their nebulous plans to bring down Voldemort and Dumbledore – and build a stronger and better Wizarding World in their absence – they had not dared hope that the first two goals would be reached before the heirs finished their second years. And yet, that was essentially what had happened.

 

Voldemort was dead and gone. Dumbledore had lost his reputation, power, and positions and would languish in Azkaban for nearly two decades. Given the horrible man’s age and the conditions on the island, he might even die before he was released. His Proxies and their allies controlled an unprecedented percentage of the Wizengamot, making the attainment of their longer-term goals a realistic possibility. He may not be precisely where he wanted to be, the boy thought with a glance at a group of giggling first-years on his left and a pair of glaring fourth-years on his right, but he was closer than he had once imagined he could be.

 

“Bye Harry,” Neville said with a smile as he headed towards the Hufflepuff table.

 

The brunette waved and sat down with Draco among the other snakes with a smile of his own. The last living Potter filled his plate and glanced from the doors that led to the hall where Godric’s room was located, to the seat beside him where his best friend, his first friend, sat trying to cheer him with a silly joke.

 

He needed the comfort of his best friend’s presence more as the days passed. Or maybe he just took more comfort in it than he had before because it was familiar and predictable and things around him were not. Being in Hogwarts was in general a little off putting. Knowing that it was part of his legacy and that it should in fact feel like home to him increased the discomfort of not being _able_ to feel that way. He could do nothing, however, for the inherent distrust he had of a place that had been run for so long by a man that had been intent on controlling him and had been prepared to do anything to accomplish that goal. No matter how it hurt Harry in the process.

 

Even with the old man safely locked away and unable to do anything to him, the unease within the castle remained. Dumbledore had held complete control over the magical building and everyone in it for so long the young wizard simply couldn’t shake the feeling that people here were still loyal to him or that something had been left behind that had escaped the goblin warders’ notice that might do him harm. Seeing Flitwick in the Headmaster’s chair at meals every day helped reinforce the idea that it was safer now. And having Professor Bones competently teaching Defense helped assure him that changes were being made that would eventually bring Hogwarts back to what it should have been.

 

But however much seeing the former Head of the DMLE in the classroom helped, it also caused another, different feeling of unease. One that had begun to creep up around his own Head of House as well. Both Bones and Snape kept giving he and Draco odd looks for no apparent reason. The two professors almost acted like they knew some kind of secret about the second-years that they were keeping to themselves. He knew Draco had noticed it as well, they had discussed it more than once at night in their dorm, but neither of them could figure out the reason or meaning behind the looks.

 

It had started several days before, after they had learned of the ritual room from Godric and only increased as they approached Samhain. The first odd expression that had been aimed at them had occurred when an especially persistent third-year named Cho Chang had broken pattern and started to approach the small wizard and attempt conversation. After half a dozen attempts to dissuade her that only seemed to embolden her further, Draco had lost his patience and altered the way the stinging hex had been integrated into their privacy charms so that when she got too close it gave her a small jolt.

 

Despite her placement in Ravenclaw, the annoying girl had been stung three times already and she still didn’t appear to have figured out the cause. As she drew back the hand that had been reaching for Harry’s shoulder with a yelp, the blond once more caught sight of a smirking Potions Master making his way down the hall several yards away.

 

Taking advantage of Chang’s momentary retreat, Draco steered his best friend away from the gaggle of third-year girls and into a nearby empty classroom. “Snape was doing that weird stare thing again.”

 

Harry nodded as he adjusted his glasses after their abrupt and hasty escape. “Bones was smirking at us when class let out. Do you think it’s connected? Maybe they’ve become friends or something and he’s told her some kind of amusing tale regarding our summer tutoring?”

 

Grey eyes widened as he looked at the other boy incredulously. “That is the best explanation you can think of? Severus Snape being friends with Bones?”  

 

“Well,” the brunette bristled slightly, “what do you think it could be?”

 

“Snape seemed amused by the hex just now. Have you noticed anything like that happening when Professor Bones makes her funny looks?” The boy-hero gave that a bit of thought, then ventured a tentative response.

 

“Well… I think she did it yesterday when Chang was coming over pretending to ask for help with a DADA assignment.” The two boys exchanged looks. The girl really was running out of excuses to invade the famous boy’s personal space. “You stepped in front of me to keep her away since I didn’t see her coming up behind me.”

 

Draco gave his friend a thoughtful look. “Maybe they have a bet going about how long it will take Chang to get the message and leave you alone.”

 

Harry tilted his head to the side as he considered that idea. A competition with the Head of another House made more sense than Severus Snape forming a friendship with a new teacher, let alone a former Auror. Thinking of Bones as the Head of Ravenclaw and the former Head of the DMLE sparked another thought. “Maybe Snape is curious to see how long it takes her, and Bones is just watching to make sure one of her Ravenclaws doesn’t get hurt or something.”

 

It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility, Harry thought to himself as Draco conceded that point with a shrug, obviously not caring if the girl got herself hurt or if he got in trouble for causing it. Watching for the strange looks over the next few days seemed to disprove the theory, however, as the Professor seemed more amused than offended when the blond boy was pointedly rude in his dismissal of the girl when she approached yet again.

 

Harry almost felt like he should be scolding his friend for the excessive rudeness, but he had a strange feeling of warmth every time his best friend bristled at the girl’s presence. The brunette didn’t know the meaning of that feeling but found he kind of liked it and therefore didn’t think about it overmuch. Besides, he was a little too busy trying to contain, and understand, the unreasonable annoyance he felt every time Daphne Greengrass talked with Draco in the common room.

 

Confusion over the situations eventually led Harry to mention it in a letter to his guardian, though her response, an oblique mention from her about his stress, had been completely unhelpful. The chocolates that had accompanied the reply were well received of course, though the snort of amusement given by his Head of House every time he spotted Harry and Draco together in the days that followed somewhat spoiled the buoying effects of the sweets. He appreciated them all the same, even more so when another delivery arrived the days before and after Samhain. By the time court re-opened for the Fall Season on the 3rd of November, Harry decided he didn’t even have time to contemplate it and made the decision that the adults’ odd conduct was not worth his time.  

 

Instead, he resolved to ignore any strange behavior in reaction to how he and Draco chose to handle his unwanted fans and critics. After all, they had been best friends since the day they met, and were understandably protective of each other. There was nothing wrong with that, or with his increasing enjoyment of the blond’s tendency to scare away any and every student bold enough to come too close to him. If he didn’t have a problem with the taller boy playing bodyguard in addition to best friend there was no reason for anyone else to. Therefore, there was no reason for him to waste time worrying about their opinions on the matter. He had Godric and Neville to talk to and spend time with. And more importantly, he had Draco, and anyone who was unreasonably annoyed or amused by that could go hang.

 

With a silent but decisive nod to himself, the small brunette grabbed his books with a smile and caught up with his impatient friend as they left the dungeons for their first class of the day. As soon as he was within reach, Draco Malfoy casually slung his arm over his best friend’s shoulder and pulled him along down the hallway. Harry Potter smiled that little bit more and followed along without a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the second story of the trilogy. I will have the third up as a final proofread is completed. I really hope you all enjoyed this and have gotten a chance to check out the lovely art that Tiffany made to go with this story, if not, do it now! http://quantumbang.org/artist-showcase-tiffany-for-desperation/   
> Also, if you want to see visuals of how I pictured characters, places, fashion etc. as I wrote, check out my pintrest board, https://www.pinterest.com/sunfirescribble/desperation/

**Author's Note:**

> visuals for characters, locations, items etc for this fic and the rest of the trilogy can now be found on my pintrest page here: https://www.pinterest.com/sunfirescribble/desperation/


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